


Tangled

by CranberryBat



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, One Piece
Genre: Action/Adventure, Attempt at Humor, Drinking, Friendship, Gen, Mustang has the worst luck, Zoro is not amused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7860889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CranberryBat/pseuds/CranberryBat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No, I DON'T have any swords in my office," Mustang growled between his teeth, "What are you, a pirate?" </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Or, the story where two pirate souls get thrown across the gate and Roy Mustang is too hungover for this shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It just had to be today, didn't it?

If you were to ask him when his troubles started, Roy would most certainly tell you that they began the instant he received a phone call from one Edward Elric.

The Truth, however, is that Roy's day had already gotten off to a rather annoying start. More specifically, since his eyes opened to the blazing morning sun and a hangover he blamed fully on Maes Hughes. The distinct headache centered between his eyes was an attest to that, along with the general tiredness and every other wonderful symptom that came from a night out with the lieutenant.

_What was it he called it again?_ Roy thought, rubbing the delicate ridge of bone between his eyes. _Ah yes, "quality friend time". Remember to buy film tickets next time Hughes just wants to blab about his wife over several bottles of cheap whiskey._

"Maybe in the future, sir, you should think twice before drinking on a work night."

Roy grimaced, wondering how much evidence of the night before was showing on his face. It was just like Riza Hawkeye to patronize him about his life decisions while simultaneously sorting through and organizing his piles of paperwork.

Resting his head on one propped-up hand, Roy closed his eyes. Only for a moment, he told himself. Good thing Hawkeye was the only one in the office today, else he would have to deal with a whole slew of teasing remarks. "Your guidance is most appreciated," he muttered, too tired and cranky to refrain from his standard sarcasm.

Hawkeye didn't even bat an eye at his cynicism. "Just an observation, sir," she said, setting a very thick stack of papers on his desk. "I've collected all the documents that need to be signed, supervised, or filled out, the soonest of which was due four days ago. It you truly value you job, sir, I would suggest getting started."

The Colonel cracked open an eye and glared at the pile of mocking papers. It was already almost one o'clock. All it would take was one spark, one little snap of the fingers, and…

Before Roy had an opportunity to finish his thought, the phone on his desk rang loudly, driving a corkscrew right to the center of his cranium.

"What?" he growled after picking up the receiver.

The voice on the other end of the line was irritatingly familiar. "Jeez, Colonel, greet your superiors like _that_ and you'll never get promoted."

"Fullmetal," Roy said, wondering if the young alchemist could hear his teeth grind together through the phone. "This is a surprise. I didn't think to get a report from you for another couple of days."

"Yeah, you and me both. Believe me, the last thing I wanted to do today was have a conversation with my hung-over superior up at HQ."

Roy had begun to develop that twitch in his eyebrow he reserved for Hughes when the Lieutenant wouldn't shut up about his wife or the ever-insolent Edward Elric. "Do you have a reason for calling, Fullmetal? Or am I not giving you enough to do?"

"Actually, I do."

The gravity if Fullmetal's voice gave Roy pause. He sounded…grim, even for Edward. "Did something happen?" he asked in seriousness, reserving the smart remarks for a later time.

"You could say that," he said, before lowering his voice. "The investigation you assigned us took a …unexpected turn. There's something here I think you should see."

Roy sighed. "Fullmetal, I don't think asking me to come all the way to East City is-"

"We aren't in East City anymore," Ed interrupted. "Al and I took an overnight train west. We're in Central."

Roy furrowed his brow. He should have known that, and the fact that he didn't was only further proof of how off his game he was today. "Alright then, is there a reason you're calling instead of reporting directly to my office? I assume this is regarding the little project I assigned you last week."

"Yeah, about that…." There was a long pause, then, "look, Colonel, it would be better if you just came and saw this for yourself. I'm calling from a phone booth just east of Copper Street. Get here as quickly as you can."

"Edward, don't you dare-"

He hung up.

Roy didn't think it was possible to break a telephone receiver just by strangling it, but he figured now was a good time to try.

"Sir, please don't take out your aggression on the phone. Again."

All the anger seemed to boil over, and Mustang let out another sigh as he placed the receiver back in its place. As far as he was concerned, Fullmetal had been chasing down a rouge alchemist; someone who was dabbling in things he shouldn't. A nobody. But from the tone of Edward's voice, Mustang guessed that things had taken a turn for the complicated.

And in his job, complicated was never a good thing.

Roy stood up, paused to let his dizziness dribble down a bit, then looked over to see the Lieutenant was ready waiting for him. "Trouble, sir?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said grudgingly. "Looks like we're going to be taking a trip downtown. Time to see what Fullmetal has gotten himself into this time."

* * *

Of all the people on earth, Roy guessed that Edward was the easiest to find. Not only did he have on his trademark red coat, but all you had to do to spot him was look for the seven-foot, hulking suit of armor that was always at his shoulder.

Or, _above_ his shoulder.

"Took you long enough," the young alchemist retorted when Roy stepped out of the military car. He had managed to gather Second Lieutenants Breda and Havoc on his way over, and they followed after him.

"Fullmetal," he said in return. Normally, this would be the allotted time Roy would make some insulting remark about Edward's height – especially after their little conversation on the phone – but today he wasn't in the mood to deal with an angry midget.

"Well this place looks welcoming," said Havoc, speaking around the cigarette stuck firmly between his teeth. Behind the two brothers stood an old warehouse that looked to be at the end of its rope. The windows were boarded up, and the roof sagged dangerously. Weeds that came up to a person's knees covered the grounds, concealing the remains of an old fence.

"Come on," said Edward, turning around swiftly and marching toward the abandoned shed. Everyone looked at Mustang for confirmation, but he just shrugged and stalked after the alchemist.

"Mind explaining what's going on here, Fullmetal?" Roy growled as he caught up. "Or why this couldn't have been handled by military police?"

Edward didn't answer. Instead he pushed through the crumbling doorway, disappearing into the dark interior of the building. Roy followed after him.

The air inside the large warehouse was musty with the smell of rotting wood, and Mustang covered his nose – left hand ready to create a spark should any danger present itself. Little rays of light filtered through the boarded up windows, but otherwise everything was dark. He didn't have to wait long, however, because a moment later a familiar clapping sound filled the air, along with the bright sparks of a transmutation.

Once Edward had completely illuminated the room, Roy took in a quick breath.

"Yeah, that was my first reaction too," Fullmetal said, crossing his arms.

Before them was a huge room, covered wall-to-wall with painted and chalked transmutation circles. The floor was scattered with broken cylinders and random items, from a toy doll to what looked like a cat skeleton. Books lay in piles all around, some ripped up and mutilated, while others were stacked neatly together. Near the back left was a worn mattress, however the bed sheets – which were also covered in transmutation circles – were strewn across the floor. In fact, Roy didn't think there was a single surface inside the warehouse that _didn't_ have something alchemic written on it, including the ceiling.

"Oh wow," said Breda as he and the others pushed their way inside. Alphonse had to take his head off so he could fit through the broken doorway.

"I take it, Fullmetal, that the person I assigned you to bring in for questioning used to live here?" Mustang asked.

The youngest alchemist nodded. "Colbra Doran. Still don't know much about him though. Well, aside from…this." He gestured at the mess. "Anyway, Al and I lost his trail back in East City, but managed to find another one from several mouths back that led to this place."

"Do you think anyone's home?" asked Havoc, cautiously pushing a broken shovel with the tip of his boot.

"You don't have to worry," Alphonse said, walking to one of the walls and running his hand over a strange transmutation circle. "Brother and I inspected the place when we got here early this morning. No one has lived here for a long time."

"Glad to know you were having fun," Roy growled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Anyway," Alphonse continued, "both of us have been inspecting the transmutation circles, but not even Brother could make any sense of them. We thought the Colonel might be able to help, considering he's the only other state alchemist in area at the moment."

"Or one we trust," Edward muttered.

Roy nodded at Alphonse, then turned back to the rest of his men. "Alright. Spread out and see if you can find any clues to Doran's whereabouts."

His subordinates saluted him before they began rummaging through the disaster area. Despite Alphonse's assurance, however, they still kept a close hand to their military-issued firearms.

After stealing a moment to close his eyes and retake his bearings, Roy turned to the small alchemist shuffling through a dusty stack of books on the floor. "Ok, Fullmetal, fess up. Why couldn't you tell me about this over the phone?"

Edward was silent for nearly a minute, then he shut the book he was looking over with a loud snap and mumbled something Roy couldn't hear.

"What?" he asked, frowning.

"BecauseIneededyourhelp…."

One of Roy's eyebrows arched up. "What was that again?"

"Because we need your help, OK?" Ed snapped.

Despite his pounding head, Roy felt a smug grin tug at the corners of his face. "Oh? This must be something truly confounding in order for the great Fullmetal Alchemist to beg for _my_ help."

"Who's begging?" Fullmetal ground out between his teeth.

"Oh please, Fullmetal," Roy said, waving his arm casually as he walked past, enjoying the feel of Edward steaming behind him. "If you didn't want the whole military to hear you asking for help over the public line, you could have just said so."

Ignoring the stream of cussing coming from behind him, Roy ran a hand over a large circle on the wall. Alphonse had been right when he said the symbols didn't make any sense. Though the circle in front of him was even on all of its six sides, there was no clear indication of what it was transmuting. Twisting lines of various lengths pointed toward the circle's center – a small oval inside what appeared to be a star.

But that wasn't even the most interesting part. Instead of meeting, the bottom part of the symbol split off from the main body – running down the wall and onto the floorboards as two parallel lines.

Roy walked over to the where the paint disappeared under a pile of books. Using a foot, he shoved then to the side, upsetting a layer of dust. The lines had stopped and spread apart from each other once again, nearly identical to the way it had done so on the wall.

_Two…_ combined _transmutation circles?_

Roy tossed more books out of the way, trying to get a better picture of what Doran had created. He touched the chipped paint, trying to sync with the circle. _Where is the energy going?_ He wondered, closing his eyes. _What are you trying to accomplish?_

But something was blocking the flow. Frustrated, he pushed at it, willing the energy to circulate, to show him its destination.

"Hey, Coronal, what are you doing?"

Roy's eyes snapped open, and he paled. The whole room was glowing a bright purple, and it was coming from the transmutation circle beneath his palm.

_W-what?!_ he thought frantically _. I didn't activate the circle!_ _I didn't even think it_ could _be activated!_ However, something else was calling for his immediate attention.

Edward was standing right on top of it.

"Fullmetal!" Roy shouted, waving for him to get clear. "Get off the circle!"

Edward had been looking at the glowing symbol on the wall, but now he glanced downward and yelped. "The hell?!"

_Stupid kid! He's not going to be fast enough!_

Managing to get a foot under himself, Roy launched off the floor and straight toward the younger alchemist. He wasn't fast enough, however, because as soon as his boot touched the cement, the circle finished activating.

* * *

Looking back, Roy he could never recall what really happened in that instant.

One second he had been trying desperately to reach Fullmetal, the next, everything exploded into white.

One second he was there, and the next, he was gone.

It was like he was flying, or simply standing there, as everything – his own life, Amestris, _existence itself_ – passed by. Thoughts and feelings whipped past so rapidly that Roy felt like his mind was given whiplash.

Then, things slowed down.

He was standing in a white room. Here, he didn't have a shadow, nor was there a floor that he could see. In front of him was a hole in existence, and inside he saw a ship.

It was a small, funny-looking vessel. Roy had never seen the ocean before – or a real ocean ship, for that matter – but he had never imagined it to look so…friendly. Dark clouds had gathered, and the sea stormed with a fury Roy didn't think possible as lightning flashed all around. The people on board scrambled around like chickens with their heads cut off; the only organization he could see was the crew members yelling and waving frantically to each other. It was almost comical, really, and from Roy's military-hardened perspective, it looked utterly disastrous.

Two of the members, Roy noted, were trying to pry a third person off a large refrigerator. The third one, a young man with a straw hat, had his teeth sunk into an enormously huge chunk of meat. They were yelling at the straw hat kid, but their words were lost to Roy in his silent universe.

As the scene played out, Roy noticed a change all around him. The white world was slowly darkening into an inky black. As the blackness rose up from below him, Roy felt like he was sinking, but somehow didn't think to panic. It was so peaceful here…

Ka _BOOOM_!

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Roy looked up just in time to see one of the two men, a green-haired man in a white shirt, come hurtling through the portal and crash head-first into the flame alchemist.

Oh, Fullmetal was _so_ going to pay for this.

* * *

Waking up felt like he was dying. Roy groaned, wondering what Hughes had dragged him into this time in order for him to feel this horrible. Opening his eyes didn't help anything, and neither did the rush of questions coming from the cute nurse at his bedside.

Ok, maybe the nurse helped a little bit.

"Colonel? Sir, can you hear me?"

_Colonel? Who the hell is she calling a Colonel?_ Then, _oh yes, that's my title. I should probably know that._

The person leaning over him wasn't the nurse anymore. _Pity_ , he thought to himself, before recognizing the tight bun and concerned expression. "Hawkeye?" he asked groggily.

For a second, Roy thought he saw relief flash through her eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly. _Boy, I must still be drunk if I thought Hawkeye was_ that _worried about me._

"I'm right here, sir. Do you remember what happened?"

"I don't…." Roy placed a hand on his head. What was wrong with his brain? All he could remember was something about a ship…and that he owed Fullmetal enough remarks about his highest to drive Edward to the moon.

No, that wasn't quite true. He remembered lightning. A very painful bolt of lightning, flashing like a brilliant steak of fire that split the sky in two. He tried to sit up, but Hawkeye gently pushed him back down from her chair beside his bed. "You shouldn't be sitting up just yet, sir. You've been hospitalized for more than twenty-four hours."

His eyes widened. Twenty-four hours? Roy knew he ought to be worried, but all he could think was, _well, at least now I have a valid excuse for not getting my paperwork in on time._

"I feel like I went drinking again with Hughes," Roy muttered, closing his eyes. He tried to breath in deeply – a technique his master had taught him to clear his head – but the fuzziness clinging to his thoughts refused to lift.

"That's not surprising," Hawkeye said, resting her hands in her lap. "The doctor issued you a moderate dose of painkillers only a couple of hours ago. You hit your head pretty hard."

"Painkillers, huh?"

Then a thought suddenly struck him. "Fullmetal!" he gasped, sitting up. Hawkeye tried to convince him back down again, but he grabbed her arm. "What happened to Edward? Is he alright?"

Hawkeye looked surprised. "Edward? He's…"

Just then, someone inside the hospital let lose a strangled yell. It was a noise of pure terror, and it sounded startlingly like Edward Elric.

"Fullmetal!" Roy threw off his sheets and sprang from the bed, carelessly ripping the IV from his arm. He staggered to the door and into the hallway, just in time to see the Fullmetal Alchemist come stumbling out of his own room.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY ARM?!"

Edward was in hysterics, holding his automail as if it had come alive and was trying to strangle him. Then he noticed his own metal foot and proceeded to yell about it as well until he crashed into the wall.

"Brother!" Alphonse was beside his sibling in an instant, but Edward just shoved him off, clinging to the wall as if it was the only stable thing in the room.

"Nami? Robin? What the hell is going on here?! Where am I?!"

"Dartboard brow?"

Everyone in the hallway froze. Then, slowly, turned to look at Mustang.

Roy blinked. Had _he_ just said that?

But Edward's eyes grew wide with recognition, and he answered:

"...Zoro?"


	2. Ok, now things have gotten weird

Despite what he may have thought, Mustang wasn't the only one having a bad day.

There was another man, a vicious pirate know throughout the four oceans, who also wasn't particularly happy about his current situation – though that wasn't really surprising. He wasn't particularly happy about anything really.

And his name, as of spoken by the Fullmetal Alchemist earlier, just so happened to be Roronoa Zoro.

The day had started out normal enough. Usopp, having nothing better to do, decided to go fishing. Naturally that meant everyone else had to join him, and it didn't take long for the band of merry pirates to catch a fish so multi-colored it was like looking at crisscrossing rainbows.

As soon as the ero-cook had caught sight of the rare hunk of meat, he hid it away in his outdoor freezer and declared that anyone who so much as laid a single finger on it would face the full force of his wrath (aside from Robin and Nami, of course).

From there, everything was practically prophesied. The fish remained in the freezer. Luffy wanted to eat it. Sanji beat the living day-lights out of him. Repeat.

Not that Zoro really cared. This was all occurring during his typical between morning and mid-morning nap anyhow, and he only heard half the commotion.

Truth be told, though, he wasn't sleeping nearly as well as he typically did. Half the commotion was still _half the commotion_ , and twice as much as he normally heard while taking a nap.

Troubled, he decided to use the portion of his brain still awake to contemplate this when Nami's voice rang out over the sounds of his enthusiastic crewmates.

"Hey, everybody gather on the canon deck! And would someone _please_ wake up Zoro?"

Casually, Zoro lifted Wado Ichimonji and blocked the kick that had been aiming for his head. "Is it possible to wake me up like a normal human?" he asked, cracking open an eye.

"Well maybe if you weren't sleeping all the time, I wouldn't _have_ to kick you," sneered the cook. "Get off your butt, you lazy-ass swordsman. The beautiful Nami wants everyone on the canon deck." With one last glare, he turned away from Zoro, melting once he caught sight of his "beautiful" mistress. "Oh Na _mi_! I woke up Mosshead for you!"

After having a nice long stretch and a yawn that could've swallowed the whole East Blue, Zoro went to join the others on the canon deck, noting for the first time the large storm clouds quickly gathering above the ship.

"It's official," Nami was saying, looking at a map. "We've reached the Lightning Graveyard."

"Gr-graveyard?!" Usopp said, his knees knocking together in typical coward-esque fashion.

Robin placed a hand on her chin. "I've heard of that. Isn't it a section of sea known for its severe year-round lightning storms?"

"That sounds really dangerous!" Chopper cried.

Nami rolled up the map she had been inspecting and smirked. "Yep, but you guys don't have anything to worry about. This sea may be dangerous, but it can't be any worse than all the other storms we've traveled through. All we have to do is carefully maintain the sails until we reach the other side and we should be alright."

"I don't know," Usopp said nervously. "They don't call it a graveyard for nothing."

Luffy didn't seem to hear the sniper's concern. "Alright!" he exclaimed, putting both fists in the air. "Now we can eat fish – I mean lunch!"

"Not a chance," said the cook, placing the heel of his boot on their captain's head. "Touch that fish and you die."

Zoro stretched again, pulling at the muscles on his biceps and upper arms as he turned to walk back down the ship steps. "Well, if that's all then I'm going back to sleep."

"Not so fast." Nami placed the map she was holding on Zoro's shoulder as if it was a deadly sword. As close to a sword as Nami ever got, anyway. "I need you to stand by and help maintain the sails. It's going to take us several days to travel through the Lightning Graveyard, and we need to take advantage of any opportunity we get to use the wind."

Zoro's jaw dropped. "Several days?! Why can't you have the stupid cook do it? If his skills are half as great as he says they are, than he should have plenty of time!"

"He's going to help too, but I need everyone ready just in case."

Sanji grinned like a love-sick puppy. "Anything for you Nami my dear!" he said, then his face returned to its normal ugly demeanor when he looked at Zoro. "And, just letting you know, my cooking is eight times better then I say – no, make that _fifteen_ times. You just have a crappy taste in food, that's all."

"Why – you…!" Zoro met the cook head-on, staring him down and pulling up his non-existent shirt-sleeve in preparation for a fight.

It was in that exact moment that the first bolt of lightning decided to strike. It flashed across the sky like God himself decided to split the heavens in two. A resounding boom followed only a split-second later, and it was so loud that everyone on the ship nearly jumped out of their skins – some even screaming like little children. Like a magnet, Chopper was instantly clinging to Zoro's leg as if the swordsman could somehow keep him from getting _struck by lightning_.

"Whoa…" said Luffy, clinging to the ship's railing. "So coooooool!"

"That was the biggest bolt of lightning I've ever seen," Nami breathed, eyes as big as saucers.

"I wanna go backkkkk!" cried Chopper and Usopp together as little droplets of rain began falling from the sky.

For a few minutes, everyone stood around and watch as more lightning flashed in the distance, trying to settle their nerves a bit. However, Zoro noticed that someone's nerves were a little bit _too_ settled, because he caught sight of Luffy as the rubber-man slowly snuck across the deck in the direction of the outdoor freezer. He tip-toed in dramatic fashion, looking back and grinning sneakily when he saw Sanji wasn't on watch over his precious fish.

_Idiot cook isn't even paying attention,_ Zoro thought, watching as Dartboard Brow drooled over Nami and blabbed about how beautiful she looked against the bright streaks of lightning. Realizing that their future dinners may be at stake, Zoro sighed and jumped down to the main deck – that is, after he managed to pry Chopper off his leg and attach him to Usopp so they could comfort each other. Stalking across the deck and grabbing the back of Luffy's shirt, he tried to pry the captain off the already preyed-upon meat.

"Come on, Luffy," Zoro growled, "that fish isn't just for you. I want some too, you know. Can't you ever think of anyone besides yourself?"

"Uut Iuu huwwy."

"Like I care if you're hungry! Now get off!" He tugged, but Luffy only wrapped his rubbery arms around the entire freezer.

Zoro groaned. He didn't have time for this. The rain was getting heavier, and he knew any second the wind would be so strong they'd have to put up the sails.

By now Sanji had noticed them both, and a murderous glint leapt into his single visible eye. "Just what the hell are you two doing to my wonderful fish?!"

"It's not me!" Zoro protested angrily. "Luffy's the one trying to eat all our food! And by the way, shouldn't _you_ be the one down here holding him off?"

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Fine then, I'll just let him eat everything if that's what you want!"

"Oh, just shut up and keep pulling!"

Once Sanji ran down the stairs, he hooked a foot around Luffy's midsection. "Alright, we pull on three. One….Two…"

Three never came. A huge wave crashed against the side of the ship, causing the vessel to tip violently. Both Zoro and Sanji grabbed onto Luffy so as not to go flying across the deck and into the swarming ocean below. Lightning crashed all around, and the wind picked up until Zoro felt like his skin was going to be blasted off. Other crew members screamed. The captain wasn't holding onto the freezer for food anymore – he was trying not to be fish chow.

"OLD ONNNN!" Luffy cried, his teeth still latched onto the hunk of meat.

"Luffy, you moron!" The cook and swordsman yelled together. Honestly, this was getting old.

Just then, something made Zoro pause – his mind clearing like he had just come up from underwater.

The sensation was…prickling. It tingled at the back of his neck, and everything seemed to slow down. It was the feeling he had felt right before a bomb was about to go off, or a blade would sink into his flesh. Glancing over at the cook, Zoro saw his single eye widen with alarm, and the blond mouthed something Zoro couldn't catch. Evidently, dartboard brow felt it too.

The lightning struck with a force unbeknownst to man. Zoro could remember his vision flashing yellow, the electrifying sensation coursing through his bones. Everything went numb, and then disappeared altogether as he felt his heart stop beating.

The pain was…different. Not like the sting of a blade, or the crushing pressure of the deep ocean. It was…

…Almighty.

Zoro had a vague impression he was flying extremely fast. It was a strange feeling, as there was no air rushing past him and nothing to look at to indicate his movement, only a rush of thoughts and feelings that flashed past so quickly he couldn't catch them. Gradually, a light began to grow in the distance. He wasn't sure if he was getting closing, or the spot was only getting bigger – not that it really mattered.

_Don't tell that whole "go towards the light" crap is true,_ thought Zoro sourly. _Because if it is, I am_ not _going in that direction. Like I could die from a little bolt of lightning_

His thoughts may have been very gratifying, but unfortunately, fate didn't really see it that way.

In the next instant, Zoro was flung headfirst into the hole and found himself flouting in a totally white universe.

No, not floating. More like…falling.

Oh crap.

Tipping forward, a strangled yell escaped his mouth as he started to plunge into the white void. Flailing his limbs, the swordsman caught sight of a dark-haired man standing beneath him, adoring some type of uniform. At the sound of Zoro's yell, the man looked up, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

_Idiot! Get out of the way!_

Too late, they collided head-first and everything exploded into stars and rainbow fish and one cook's stupid, grinning face.

Oh, Sanji and his precious fish were _so_ going to pay for this.

* * *

When Zoro woke up, someone was talking to him.

She was a pretty someone, as someones go. With light hair pinned up into a bun, brilliant eyes, and a stern look on her face, she might have actually been beautiful, if he were interested in that sort of thing. She was saying something, and if he concentrated he could just make out what it was.

"…remember what happened?"

Remember? No, not really. Maybe something about lightning…

Zoro placed his hand on his head, noticing the darkness outside the room. Who was this chick, anyway? He felt like he should know her. "I don't…." he muttered. He meant to say "I don't remember you" and "where the hell am I?", but the words just wouldn't come out.

"You shouldn't be sitting up just yet, sir. You've been hospitalized for more than twenty-four hours."

There his body went again, doing whatever the hell it wanted. He almost considered punching it, but thought that that might be a bit counterproductive. Plus Chopper would scold him, and it was always a pain trying to get the little fussy fuzz-ball to calm down.

Then he paused. Had that woman just called him "sir"?

"I feel like I went drinking again with Hughes," he muttered, closing his eyes. That didn't make sense either. Who the heck was Hughes? And couldn't even _remember_ the last time he had a hangover.

_Great, now I'm spouting nonsense! Where's the doctor when you need him?_

The woman was speaking to him again, but he must have blacked out because all he caught was something about hitting his head.

Pfff, as if something as trivial as _hitting his head_ would do anything.

Panic, without any incentive, suddenly gripped his chest like a vice. He shot upward, gabbing the woman's arm. Images of a young, fair-haired boy wearing a red coat leapt into his head unbidden. "What happened to Edward? Is he alright?" he asked frantically. Zoro felt like he was getting pulled along, trying desperately to catch up to what his body was doing. Before he could clamp his arms around his stupid, blubbering mouth, his body jumped out of the bed it had been laying in and ran across the room to the door.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY ARM!?"

A headache was starting to overtake Zoro's cranium. As if things weren't bad enough, the kid he had seen in his head was standing in the middle of the hallway screaming about his arm….which appeared to be made out of metal.

Ok, so maybe the kid wasn't so crazy after all. Zoro would probably freak out too if his arm was some kind of cyborg-thingy.

"Nami? Robin? What the hell is going on here? Where am I?"

Wait a minute…that sounded awfully like…

"Love-cook?"

Everyone turned to look at Zoro. What? Was if something he said? Well, he couldn't really blame them. Despite the same colored hair, the kid didn't even look like the cook. His voice was also different, not to mention the metal limbs.

But even after all that, something about his voice set Zoro's teeth on edge; or it would, if he had any control over his body at the moment. It was the tone of that stupid curly brow. He would know it anywhere.

And, just to confirm his suspicions, the kid turned to look at him, his eyes wide with surprise and something akin to relief.

"Zoro?"

Everyone was staring at them both now, some of them looking more surprised than others. For the first time, Zoro noticed a tall suit of armor standing next to the cook-turned-little-kid, hovering over him like a fussy mother. And now that he thought about it, didn't a little boy's voice come out of that hunk of metal? Ah well, he could deal with that later. Right now he had something else to think about.

Zoro burst out laughing.

"What's with the new look, Dartboard Brow? Eat the shorty fruit or something?"

Nobody breathed. Nobody aside form Zoro, that is, who laughed until he was bent over, using the wall for support and sweating profusely. His head hurt, and despite everything, his hands shook with the effort it took to stay in control.

_Stop it! Stop laughing like a retard!_

Zoro froze off in a choke. Who…?

"Sir?" said the blond lady standing behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

"No, Hawkeye," he said, tone serious. "I don't think so."

…Now that he thought about it, his voice sounded completely different. He felt different too, as if his arms weren't at full strength. At first he thought it was just because he had been unconscious, but now he didn't know if that was the case.

This whole time, the cook had been standing there, staring gob-smacked at Zoro as if he couldn't believe the swordsman would have the gall to laugh at him. But just as quickly his expression transformed to something more deadly.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A SHORTY!?"

Zoro stared at that blond little boy. Then, slowly, a smile crept across his face. "Well Fullmetal, looks like you're still your temperamental self." He turned to the woman standing behind him. "Sorry about that. Not really feeling myself tonight."

_This is bad. This is very bad. I think I'm going crazy…What did that circle_ do _to me?_

Ok, Zoro _knew_ those weren't his thoughts. And if they hadn't been coming from him, crazy or no, that only left one option….

_There's someone else in my head!_ Both him and the intruder thought together.

Storming forward, Zoro's body grabbed the not-Sanji and started dragging him towards his hospital room. "Come on Fullmetal," he growled.

The kid started struggling and kicking with all his might. "Who you calling Fullmetal, you moss-headed-!"

Before he could finish, the other guy, who was still on control of Zoro's body, tossed the kid into one of the hospital rooms. Then he turned back to the crowd of staring, dumbfounded people and smiled. "Sorry about that, folks! You can all go back to your business now."

The suit of armor reached forward as if he wanted demand an explanation, but Zoro's arm slammed the door in his face.

Zoro's body leaned against the door and signed. _I'm never going to live this down, am I?_

_Oi! You, in my head! Wanna stop messing with my body?_

_Me? This is_ my _body!_

Zoro looked down. _What the Hell!?_

Even dressed in a loosely-fitted hospital gown, the swordsman could tell his appearance had changed. His arms were now thinner, with a moderate amount of muscle but nowhere near the amount he'd had before. Looking at his feet, he saw that his ankle scars were gone, along with most of the other marks that had maimed him over the years.

_Hey! Just what the hell is going on here!? Where am I?! And where the hell are my swords?! You better have an explanation for this, or I swear I'll-_

_Whoa, whoa!_ Zoro's hands raised into the air, as if he were warding off a dangerous predator. _Don't you think I should be asking the questions?_ You're _the one in_ my _head!_

Zoro backed off a bit. Ok, so maybe the guy was right. Maybe he was just as clueless as Zoro. But, then again, maybe he was just a lying scumbag who had snatched the swordsman's mind from his body and was trying to….to…ok, so maybe Zoro had no idea what good that would do, but that didn't mean he could trust him!

Sensing his thoughts sinking into darker territory, the man jumped to reassure him before the swordsman did something drastic. _Hey, wait a minute! I'm just as freaked about this as you are, I swear! The last thing I remember was the circle and the lightning and…._

Suddenly, the guy's face paled. His breathe quickened, and blood hammered in his ears. _I remember…oh crap, this isn't good._

Zoro's alarm raised a couple of notches. _What? Hey Clueless!_ What _isn't good?_

On the other side of the room, the young shorty-cook cleared his throat. He looked shaken, and was glancing around the room as if he were in some type of illusion. "Hey, uh…Mustang? I think…there's someone in my head."

They both gaped at him. He was just figuring this out now?

The kid caught one look at Zoro's – this Mustang's – face, and scowled. "Stop looking at me like that, with that pompous face of yours!"

Zoro scowled. "Yeah? What's the idiot in your head saying?"

_Hey! Who said you get to talk?!_

The kid blinked, as if surprised Zoro hadn't called him crazy. Then his face darkened. "He won't stop freaking out over my automail. It's getting a little crowded in here." He flinched and rubbed his temple. Zoro noted that his hands were shaking.

That wasn't good. Knowing that stupid cook, he'd probably woken up confused and disoriented, seen the metal appendages, then assumed the worst and freaked out. Without his hands, he couldn't cook (which was the only thing he was half-decent at), and without his feet, he couldn't fight on Luffy's crew.

Zoro understood how that would be a scary feeling.

Stepping forward, the swordsman snatched the kid's metal arm and held it in front of his face. "Oi, shorty-cook!" he snapped, trying to see if curly-brow was in there somewhere. However, that seemed to be the _wrong_ thing to say, because the kid let loose a furious exclamation and kicked Zoro in the shin with his metal foot.

"Don't call me small! Or I'll cut your legs into thousands of tiny LITTLE PIECES!"

_Oops…I forgot to warn you about Edward…._

A strangled _Uh-ha_ was all the thoughts Zoro could form as his eyes bulged in pain, but he held fast to Edward's arm. Evidentially, this guy had a very low pain tolerance.

Which sucked.

A lot.

"Cook," he growled, a little too eager to get revenge and maybe a little bit scared for his crewmate. "Nami and Robin hate your Tea."

For a second, everything seemed to stand still. Zoro just had time to regret what he said before a full-blown kick to the chest sent him flying across the room. Good thing it wasn't the kid's metal leg that time, or else Zoro's ribs would've been totaled.

"STUPID MOSS-HEAD! I'LL…I'll…"

Sanji was practically steaming, but as soon as he caught sight of the metal arm, all the fury evaporated. He clutched the limb like it was the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.

"What…what the hell is going on?"

"Well, isn't that the question of the day…" Mustang groaned, sitting up slowly.

_Seems like your friend has a temper as well…Thanks for the warning._

_That's payback._

Sanji scowled at him. "Are you really that arrogant swordsman?"

Straightening out his hospital-issued gown like it was some fancy suit, Mustang glared right back at him. "No, but your friend seems to be stuck in my head, as I'm sure you're stuck in Fullmetal's."

Zoro snatched control of the body. "Yeah, anyone want to tell me how that happened?"

"Actually…." The kid (who Zoro guessed wasn't Sanji anymore) had a thoughtful look on his face, metal hand placed on his chin. "I think I remember…As if!...Shut Up! I'm trying to think! …hum…oh yeah!" He pointed an accusing finger at Mustang. "You! You're the bastard that activated the circle!"

"Me!? I hardly even touched it! And weren't _you_ the idiot standing on it?"

They were both head-to-head now, glaring each other down like bulls.

_Huh…_ Zoro wondered. _Well this is familiar._

The argument didn't last very long. As if by a silent signal, both guys backed off, Edward paling significantly.

"Fullmetal?" Mustang asked, frowning.

The kid rubbed one flesh-and-blood hand down his face. "I remember…it was white."

Mustang nodded. "It was. Does that mean…"

_That doesn't sound good… Hey! What does what mean?!_

"Yeah, I think it does."

Zoro was getting tired of being left out of the conversation. _Does? DOES?! What the hell are you two talking about?!_

Mustang sighed and rubbed the bone between his eyes. The body's headache was coming back full throttle, it felt nauseous, and all Mustang wanted to do was go back to sleep. "Great. Just…wonderful."

_Hey! You'd better tell me what the hell is going on, or I swear I'll find my swords and shove them up your-_

"It means we died, genius," Mustang growled.

Zoro froze. Died…?

"And that's not even the worst part," the kid said, his voice low and heavy.

"Worst part…?" Zoro asked with Mustang's mouth.

He nodded. "The real question is…how did we get back?"


	3. Guess this isn't going to fix itself, is it?

The first thing Edward realized when he woke up was that he felt….ok.

Which was new, considering his present lifestyle. It had been a long time since he had gotten a full night's sleep, and the feeling of not being tired was more refreshing then he would have thought possible. Whoever said sleep was over overrated was obviously not getting enough of it.

The light sound of chirping birds floating into the room through an open window, and Ed could taste the energizing outdoor air when he breathed in. Alfonse must have opened the window to the …hospital room.

Wait, that didn't seem right.

Well good morning sunshine. Glad someone is happy to be alive.

Aaaaand the good feeling left.

Oh wait, we aren't technically alive because we died. How's that working for you, by the way? Because it's working just great for me!

Edward buried his face in the flat hospital pillow and groaned. Ah yes, who could forget his little houseguest.

Sitting up, Ed rubbed at his eyes, trying to dispel the post-sleep bleariness. The room was rather plain, with only a bed, desk, and small chair stacked with a pile of clothes to take up space. Though he had assumed the walls to be white the night before, they now appeared almost blue, illuminated by the soft light drifting through the window.

As Ed looked around, he caught sight of the dent in the wall opposite him. He winced, vaguely remembering kicking Mustang. Or had that been the other guy who kicked him? He was having a hard time remembering the night before.

The "other guy" has a name, you know.

Ed ignored the voice in his head (that was a weird thought, wasn't it?), turning to his right. On the small desk next to him sat a short vase with a handful of red flowers. In the center of them was a small paper note, nestled between the foliage as if it had simply drifted through the window and landed there.

Reaching forward, Ed snatched the note and opened it warily. He could already guess who it was from.

Well Fullmetal, glad you could join the land of the living. I do hope you have enjoyed your little vacation. I, on the hand, have been working on our…predicament. Report to my office as soon as you are able.

~Colonel Mustang

Edward crumpled the paper in one metal fist, gritting his teeth. Vacation? Only if following your superior's orders, getting electrocuted, knocked out, and then going to the hospital counted as a vacation. So sue him if he had slept longer than necessary! A concussion was nothing to just walk away from (even though he walked away from them all the time), not to mention his lack of rest after pulling an all-nighter train ride and investigating Colbra Doran's impressively strange transmutation circles.

Yet beneath the letter's sarcastic air, there lay an undertone of worry. Mustang wouldn't have sent a note if you didn't think it was important, and by refraining from outright mentioning their problem meant he was trying to keep it quiet. Edward didn't remember much last night, but he did recall the Colonel ordering him not to tell anyone what had happened to them in the transmutation until further notice. After that, the man had left, looking tired and worn, but determined.

Reaching forward, Ed plucked one of the flowers from its holder and gazed at it. The action was more of a preoccupation while he tried to get his thoughts in order – regarding the flower's sparse pedals and yellow center.

Dahlia

Edward furrowed his brow. What? he asked.

A dahlia. That's the name of the flower. It generally grows in the desert, and doesn't have a sent. You usually give it to someone you're grateful towards.

Edward brought it up to his nose and sniffed. He was right, the flower didn't smell like anything.

So this Mustang guy? He trying to thank you for something?

The Colonel? Edward almost laughed. As if! That egotistical jerk wouldn't thank me if I made him the fuhrer. He probably meant I should be grateful to him.

The guy inside Edward's head shrugged. Yeah, I guess I did get an arrogant vibe from him. Or maybe that was just Zoro.

Zoro?

The stupid-ass inside your friend's head. He sighed (or tried to). Just my fate I couldn't face death with a beautiful maiden like Robin or Nami. Now that would be heaven….

Edward's cheeks grew a bright pink at the images running through the other guy's mind, and frantically tried to find a way to change the subject. Hey! Um…you never did tell me your name.

Really? He wondered. Silly me, I must have forgotten. That seems kinds important, seeing as I'm probably going to be stuck with you for a while. The name's Sanji. And you're Edward, right?

He nodded. But just call me Ed.

Great!

Ed smiled. He thought he might like this Sanji. At least he was reasonably nice and liked to chat, unlike a curtain Colonel he knew, whose only pleasure seemed to be finding all the different ways to make Edward twitch.

Hey, um, Ed…can I ask you something?

Edward set the flower on his bedside table and nodded hesitantly. Shinji's inner voice had sobered, and he sounded deeply troubled.

Your, ah….your arm…and your leg….What happened to them?

For a long moment, the alchemist didn't say anything. Ed just clenched his metal fist and stared at it, images of a glowing circle, an empty set of child's clothes, and a huge puddle of blood ran ramped through his mind before Ed was able to catch them and throw them back behind a locked mental door.

Then, finally, Ed let out a long sigh. It was an…a mistake. I…

Before he could finish, the sound of clanking footsteps pounded from the hallway, then the door to the hospital room was flung open and Alphonse appeared in the doorway. One of his armored gauntlets held a tray of cafeteria food.

The tall suit of armor seemed to brighten considerably at the sight of his younger brother awake and sitting up.

"Brother!" he said happily, "You're awake!" Al rushed forward and set the tray of food on Ed's bedside table, but paused right before embracing his elder sibling. "Brother? …Are you alright?"

Ed realized he had been staring wide-eyed at Al, and hastily shut his mouth.

That's my brother, moron! Stop staring!

"Sure Al, why wouldn't I be?"

Alphonse poked his index fingers together, the way he did when he was nervous or sure to get in trouble. "Well, it's just that…the way you were acting last night….and just now when you were looking at me….Mustang didn't seem himself either. He kept talking to himself when he was released early this morning, but when I asked Hawkeye about it, she had no idea what was wrong."

"You mean Mustang didn't tell you anything?"

Alphonse shook his head.

Sighing, Ed ran a hand down his face. "I guess I'll have to explain things then. But first…" As if on cue, Edward's stomach produced a very unflattering noise, loudly announcing that he hadn't eaten anything for a while.

"Ah, um, yes!" Al said quickly, grabbing the tray of food and handing it to Edward. "The nurses said I could bring you your food if I wanted. I brought you a tray for breakfast, but it got cold…"

Edward almost choked on the tall glass of water he was chugging. "Breakfast?! Just how long have I been sleeping?"

"Well let's see…Today's the seventh, so…"

Ed groaned and placed his head in his hands. Two days. He had been asleep for two whole days. No wonder Mustang had accused him of having a vacation, not to mention that the maniac who created those portals was still out there doing whatever the hell he wanted while Edward had been having a nice nap.

Frustrated, Ed angrily snatched his fork and scooped a blob of the mashed potatoes from off the tray. Bringing it up to his face, he tried to take a bite, only for his hand to freeze in place halfway to his mouth.

Oh, no. You are not eating that crap.

What's your problem? Ed mentally growled, eyebrows furrowing. I'm hungry!

And you plan to eat that?

It's just food!

No, that is an insult to not only every chief everywhere, but to the art of food itself! I have to taste that too, and I'll die before I let you eat that trash! Honestly, how can you stand to look at it?

For a good minute, the two of them wrestled over the hand – Ed angrily trying to shove the fork in his mouth and Sanji holding it firmly in place. Finally, after Al was once again staring at him worriedly, he stopped, realizing he hadn't gotten anywhere and was still just as hungry as when he'd started.

"Sorry, Al," he ground out as he set the fork down, "I'm not really in the mood for hospital food right now."

The younger brother was still giving him that look, like he secretly hoped Edward wasn't going crazy. "Um…ok." He picked up the tray from Edward's lap and set it back onto the bedside table. "We could eat at Central Command, if you want. That is, after you've had your final checkup…"

Waving him away, Ed jumped from the bed and grabbed his coat, which was draped neatly on the back of the chair. "Final checkup my ass!" He said. The smell in this place was starting to make him feel nauseous, and the plain walls made his eyes hurt. He needed to do something, anything besides sitting around twiddling his thumbs.

The hospital hallway was quiet and uninteresting when he stepped outside his room. Several nurses stood at their station down the hall, some of them giving him curious looks.

"Brother!" Alphonse called behind him.

Sighing, he turned back to his brother. "I'm fine Al, I don't need the checkup. Let's just get out of here."

"No! ah, I mean," the younger brother said, looking embarrassed, "your clothes…"

Ed blinked, then looked down at himself. He was still wearing his hospital robes. Inside his head, Sanji was trying to conceal his laughter as Edward's cheeks flushed with frustration. Man, what was wrong with him today?

Gritting his teeth, Ed stalked back into his hospital room and slammed the door in Al's face. It never bothered him if Al saw him change, but he was getting tired of his younger brother's staring at him as if he had lost his mind.

Hey, Sanji said, his laughter gone.

What is it? Ed growled, picking up his shirt from where it sat folded on the hospital chair.

Don't think that was a little rude? I mean, I know you're upset and all, but he's your little brother, right?

Edward paused, looking down at the neatly folded black pants and jacket. He had been to this hospital several times before, always seeming to find trouble where there was none, but he knew the nurses didn't care about folding his clothes and setting them next to his bed. Al must have found them.

Yeah… was all Ed thought, but before he could say anything more, something caught his eye.

I take it, from what you're thinking, that you're not supposed to have a tattoo there. Sanji said.

Edward shook his head. He had been wondering how another soul could stay anchored inside his body. He supposed now he had his answer.

On his left side, just above his pant-line, was a small transmutation circle. The sign was black and looked like your average tattoo, only it burned slightly when Ed brushed against it with his fingers. Inside his mind, he could feel Sanji stiffen at the contact.

Wh-what is that? he asked, shaken.

That, said Edward, sounding grim, is where your soul is attached to my body. Tearing his eyes away from the star-defined rune, he pulled his shirt on, making sure that the circle was completely covered.

Al was standing patiently outside the door, still looking worried but content to wait for Edward to tell him what was wrong.

That's all Al really seemed to do these days, be patient while Edward worked things out – or slept, or got mad. Ed didn't deserve it. Any of it.

The taxi drive to Central Command was short, but Ed took the opportunity to explain to his brother what happened after the transmutation circle had been activated two days before. Inside his head, he could feel Sanji wanting to ask some questions of his own, but he held them back until Ed was finished. This was, after all, the first time he had heard Ed's side of the story.

"So this person's soul from the other side of the Gate is bound to you right now?" Al asked, and Edward could just imagine his eyes growing wide. "Is that even possible?"

Ed placed a hand on his chin in consideration. "I had thought that only soulless objects could retain a soul, like your armor. But my body defiantly isn't soulless, and neither is Mustang's, even if it does seem like he is half the time. Considering that, it should be impossible…yet it still happened."

Wait, you don't have devil fruit users here? Sanji asked. He had been quiet for so long, Ed had almost forgotten about him.

Devil fruit users?

Yeah. Devil Fruits are special foods that give whoever eats them some kind of power. People like that are all over the place where I come from.

Interesting…But we don't have anything like that here. In Amestris we use Alchemy, which is the only thing that can explain what happened…if only I could figure out how.

"Brother?" Ed was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Al's voice.

"Huh?"

"Is he talking to you right now? I mean, you can talk to this person?"

Sanji must have figured it was a good time to introduce himself, because, with a quick metal shove, he took control of Ed's body. "Sure can," he said, flashing Al a wide smile. "The name's Sanji."

Al looked like he was about to jump out of his armor (figuratively speaking, of course). "Oh! Ah…happy to meet you, I think…"

The real owner of the body wasn't ecstatic Sanji had decided to just introduce himself, but he figured he owned it to Al to let him at least talk to the guy. Sanji stuck out Ed's flesh and blood arm, and Al shook it tentatively, probably thinking it was weird shaking his own brother's hand. "So, mister Sanji? What is it that you do? That it, before all of this happened…"

Sanji smiled. "I'm a chef. I'm part of a…ah, ship's crew."

So that explains why you got so pissy about the food earlier. Just what I need, a picky eater.

The younger Alchemist seemed to brighten. "You mean a real ship? An ocean ship?"

If Sanji's smile could widen, it did. "Yeah, it's called the Going Merry. I used to work on a floating restaurant, but that was before I met Luffy and became part of his crew."

An image flashed through Ed's brain – a ship with a skull and crossbones on the sail. Ed had never seen a ship before; the ocean only a story about a large body of water supposedly on the other side of Xing. However it seemed that, wherever Sanji had come from, the ocean wasn't just an unseen mystery.

"Wow," said Al. "This Luffy has to be a really great guy."

Sanji laughed. "Actually, he's kinda an idiot. But yeah, I guess you could say he's pretty great…"

A whole host of different emotions washed through Sanji's mind, making Ed pause. Admiration, longing, and a sort of lingering despair, as if he feared he would never get back home. Alarmed, Ed pulled away from the invading mind, letting him have his privacy. He obviously missed his crew, and it didn't seem like the time to confront him on it. Edward just wished he knew whether or not getting Sanji home was a real possibility.

Pulling up to Central Command, Ed and his brother piled out of the car. The large building looked just the same as if had been several weeks ago, before this whole commotion with Colbra Doran had started. Passing different people as they walked inside, Ed caught the usual amount of stares and whispered comments. It seemed that not even his stay at the hospital had been spared from gossip's lips.

"Um, Brother? Isn't Mustang's office this way?" Al pointed in the opposite direction Ed was walking.

"Mustang can wait," Ed called behind him, not stopping. "I'm starving!"

Producing a sighing noise, Al jogged after his elder brother.

This cafeteria food, or whatever it is, better not be crap, or I swear I'll kick the cook's ass myself.

Ed had a sneaking suspicion that this was going to be a very long day.

Nearby, two hunched figures waited on a rooftop, watching as the Fullmetal Alchemist and his armored companion walking into Central Command. Clawed hands clutched the outer rim of the building, and two sets of identical, green eyes blinked, carefully watching as the youngest state alchemist walked, talked, and breathed. Once he had disappeared past their sight, the taller of the pair shrugged off a phone pack, before picking up the receiver.

"Yes…" he said, his voice slurred, as if his tongue was too big for his mouth. "He's awake…yes, we are outside….Sir, I do not think-….yes sir."

The one holding the phone peered back at the building, as if trying to catch a glimpse of the young man they had just moments before been stalking. "…Human." He said into the phone after several moments. "…Angry, and human."

He set down the receiver then, before placing the portable phone onto his back once again. "We will return," he declared, standing up.

"What of the boy?" The second figure asked. He was breathing hard, hands flexing, eyes dilated. "What of the man? Can we not-?"

"No," the one holding the phone pack cut in, a cold, savaged smile pulling at his tight lips. "They will come – soon, if they are smart. And we will wait for them."

Picking themselves up, the two of them leapt lightly off the side of the building before disappearing into the belly of the city.


	4. This day just keeps getting longer and longer

If there was one thing that Sanji understood, it was food. And if there was one thing that made Sanji weep on the inside, it was the sight of poorly cared-for and severally abused dishes, if you could call them that.

Get struck by lightning? Fine. He could deal.

Wake up in someone else's body? Not the highest thing on his list, but then Zoro wasn't either, and Sanji had to live with him.

Find out that he most likely died and somehow his soul crossed over to a different world? …ok, maybe that was pushing it a little, but he would live (no pun intended).

But make him eat something as deprived as this food? No, that was where he crossed the line; not when just looking at them made him feel sad for the poor, condemned soul who made them. It was his _mouth_ , dang it – even if it wasn't really his– and he had to taste whatever was shoveled into it. No one was going to stick anything less than the finest dishes in all the four seas in it without his say so.

And the worst part was the fact that every person in this blue-uniformed sea of a cafeteria was just _eating_ it. Did these men have any taste buds? Or had this tyranny been going on so long that everyone's sense of good or bad food had simply molded over?

 _Hey, can you at least_ try _it before you make any more harsh judgments? I'm dying here!_

Ok, he would give Edward that much. He _was_ pretty hungry – not starving, but hungry – and to extension Sanji was as well.

Taking a deep breath, Sanji sampled the bread and decided that, with a few more minutes in the oven, it might have tasted at least half decent. However, he only had to sample a tiny bit of the sorry-looking thing he supposed was stew to know he wouldn't be eating that anytime soon.

Slamming his hands flat on the table, Sanji stood up abruptly.

_Oh no. No no no. What are you doing? Sit down, dimwit!_

_No,_ Sanji thought forcefully. For the last forty-eight hours, he had had to deal with a lot of crap, but this was it. Not doing something in this situation would go against everything he believed in as the greatest chief in the world. This was just unacceptable!

Storming in the direction of the open-air kitchen, Sanji forced Edward's body through the side entrance and onto the main deck. The alchemist tried his hardest to take back control of his limbs, but all it did was slow Sanji down.

_What the hell do you think you're doing, moron! I swear I'll-_

Sanji took in a deep breath, then let it out all at once. "Hey, Meatball-heads! Yeah, I'm talking to you!"

Everyone turned toward Edward, including the cooks and all the soldiers eating or milling around in the dining area.

"Your food stinks donkey dung, you know that?!"

If Edward had any control over his limbs, he would've slapped his forehead. Half the workers' jaws dropped, while the other half looked like they didn't know if they should be scared of the Edward or greatly offended.

After several seconds of stunned staring, a large man standing a few feet away scowled and crossed his arms. "You have a problem with my cooking, punk?"

Sanji craned his neck to meet the beefy man's stare. _Wow, you really are short._

_Oh shut up!_

"Yeah, I got a problem. It's called your retard-o-ass and your retard-o-ass cooking! What is this, a prison yard? No, scratch that. At least prison food has some dignity, which is more than I can say about your slop!"

The man leaned forward until their foreheads met, breathing hard through his nostrils. Sanji stood on his tip-toes, trying not to appear _too_ short, but it didn't really help.

The head cook growled. "You think you can do better? I'd like to see you try, little Alchemist."

This time Edward was more than glad to respond. "Who you callin' little?! I could beat your ass any day!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Well then, prove it!"

Up this close, Sanji noticed that the cook's eyes were blood-shot and the skin around them sagged. His face was harsh enough, but there was no joy in his expression, only anger and, deeper down, another emotion Sanji was all too familiar with.

Ed noticed it, too.

"Ha!" Sanji laughed. "I might actually do that, if you were worth my time! Look at you. You're just a joke of a cook working in a kitchen where no one can appreciate anything you do. You don't belong here."

For a split second, a startled, lost look crossed the man's face. He glanced around the kitchen, seeing the solemn expressions of the other cooks. Then his face turned right back to what it was before – beet red with anger – but there was something different about it this time.

"You want me gone? Well then, I'm gone!" Tearing off his apron, he threw it on the ground and stomped on it. "Good luck trying to prepare hundreds of meals without me!"

And then, with one last scowl, he walked out the door.

Sanji blinked. Well, that had gone over easier than usual. He'd expected the man to deny what Sanji had pointed out. Maybe even challenge him to a battle between chiefs. At least, that's what normally happened.

 _This world is weird,_ he thought.

Stunned silence fell over the kitchen for a long moment, but it didn't take long for everyone to start muttering amongst themselves. Some of the cooks looked shocked, others looked anxious, but most just seemed at a loss for what to do next.

"Don't you think that was a little mean, brother?" asked Alphonse. "Now that man doesn't have a job anymore, and the kitchen doesn't have a head chief."

"You got it all wrong, Alphonse," Edward said, shaking his head. "Did you see the look on his face? That guy only left because he wanted too."

 _You saw it too?_ asked Edward.

Sanji nodded. _Yeah. No man deserves to be called a chief if all he does is regret it day in and day out._

"What do we do now?" asked one of the cooks standing round.

Grinning, Sanji cracked his knuckles. Now this was something he could deal with.

"Alright scumbags! Since the head honcho decided to hit the road, I guess the duty of teaching all you shams how to cook falls on me! By the time lunch is over, every single one of you is going to know the meaning of the word chief, so if anyone doesn't think they have what it takes, I suggest you leave now."

No one left. If anything, they look all the more determined.

Sanji's grin widened. "All right then, let's get started."

Edward groaned.

* * *

About half an hour later found Sanji in command of his own fiercely loyal army of military cooks. All he had to do was reconstruct the head cook's horrible stew into something worth eating without starting from scratch, and all the men were practically kissing his shoes. It was refreshing, getting to show people who had been misled all their lives how to properly prepare food.

"You there!" Sanji said, pointing toward a startled cook standing next to the stove. "What are you doing to that beef?"

"I-I'm marinating it…"

"In what, manure water? Give me that!"

Breathing deeply through his nose, Sanji smiled. After the whole ordeal with the lightning and waking up in another body, it felt right to have a good knife in one hand and a ladle in another. Even in a different body in a different world in a different kitchen, cooking would always be the same.

He could almost forget that the hand holding the ladle didn't feel the spoon under its fingertips. Could almost forget that this body was left-handed because its right hand couldn't be depended on for precise movements.

Almost.

Edward and Alphonse also seemed to be enjoying working in the kitchen. They both asked lots of questions about ingredients and what they tasted like in certain combinations. Ed seemed especially interested in the similarities between cooking and the thing he called alchemy, which was a lot, according to what he could glimpse from Ed's mind. It was mostly mathematics and complex equations in there, so Sanji tried to keep his visits short, but he was glad they had something in common. If Sanji didn't know better, he might even think Edward was having fun.

That was until, amidst the hustle and noise of the kitchen, a stern voice spoke up behind them, silencing everyone in the room.

"Fullmetal."

Edward and Sanji froze. Everyone swiveled their heads to look at them. Sanji had been in the middle of chopping potatoes, but at the sound of the voice, he set the knife down and turned around slowly.

"Colonel?" Alphonse asked, standing next to Edward. "What are you doing here?"

Sure enough, the flame alchemist stood in the middle of central command's kitchen, looking surprised to be there and not very pleased about it. His seemed haggard, with his military uniform disheveled and huge bags under his eyes. "Shouldn't I be the one asking that question?" he said dangerously.

Edward gulped. Obviously an angry Colonel wasn't a good thing. "I was just-"

Mustang silenced him with a hand. "I want to see you in my office, Fullmetal. Now, if you don't mind. That is, unless you would like to turn in your military certification for a career in serving cafeteria food."

Before anyone could answer, Roy Mustang turned and walked briskly out of the room. Just in time, too, because Edward's face was beginning to burn. Sanji wanted to pound the guy into the ground for making serving food sound so degrading, but the older man's words had obviously effected Ed. He gritted his teeth, glaring holes into the Colonel's back as he left.

After Mustang was gone, Edward sighed. _Sanji, you think everyone here will be ok without you?_

Sanji looked at all the men bustling around the kitchen. They had all turned back to cooking, and now none of them even glanced at Edward as they worked – they were all so focused on their individual tasks.

He smiled. _Yeah, I think they got the hang of it._

 _Ok then._ "Come on, Al. Colonel Jerkoid's mood isn't going to improve the longer we stay here."

"Ok. But brother, maybe you should…"

Edward was already walking away. "Hurry up, Al! Maybe if we walk fast, the Colonel won't send us on one of those lame cross-country, hide-and-seek missions again like with that Colbra guy."

Alphonse signed. "He never learns, does he?"

* * *

Mustang didn't look like his mood had improved the five minutes it had taken them to get to his office. He rubbed his forehead as he sat behind his desk – a desk that happened to be piled high with stacks of lose paper.

The lady standing next to him, however, was looking _just fine_. So fine, in fact, Sanji couldn't help but stair openly at her the minute they walked into the room. She looked vaguely familiar from his night in the hospital, even if that entire incident was a little fuzzy. But any incident with a lady like her nearby couldn't have been _that_ bad, right?

Edward caught on to what Sanji was doing a little too late to stop him.

"Why hello there," Sanji said, giving the lady a wide smile. "And what would a lovely dove like yourself be doing in a place like this?"

The woman blinked and Alphonse made a high-pitched squeaking noise. Edward was so shocked that his mind seemed to lapse into a flabbergasted silence.

"Stop groping at every girl you see, you sicko," Mustang growled. Or…not Mustang. Zoro. He kept forgetting that the annoying brickhead was in there too.

"I do not!" shouted Sanji. "You just can't appreciate true beauty, that's all!"

"What'd you say?!"

"I _said_ -"

He stopped. It can be kinda hard to continue shouting when you have the barrel of a gun aimed at the side of your head.

"I take it, sir, that this is the person you told me about earlier?"

There was an amused look on Mustang's face as he nodded. "So you believe me now? Oh, and you can stop aiming the gun at his head. As much as shutting both of them up is rather nice, I don't think that either of our…guests would do anything to jeopardize their only chances at getting back across the gate."

The lady gave Sanji a skeptical look, but decided to holster her gun anyway.

 _I can't believe you just did that,_ said Edward, still slightly in shock.

_Hey, I couldn't help it._

_COULDN'T HELP IT? The Colonel is never going to let me live this down! That is, if Hawkeye doesn't kill me first! Just look at his smug expression!_

Mustang _was_ looking a little smug right about now, especially since Edward's cheeks were bright red.

The younger alchemist cleared his throat. "You wanted to see me?" he asked quickly.

"What's wrong Edward?" Mustang asked, smirking as he placed his chin on his hands. "Did what your little friend upstairs say upset you?"

Ed blushed ever harder, but tried to cover it up by slamming his metal hand on the large desk. "You were the one who sent flowers to my room, Colonel, so I suspect what you wanted to say has to be pretty damn important!"

No one said anything. Mustang leaned back, the smug expression wiped from his face. "What are you talking about, Fullmetal?" he asked.

"You know," said Alphonse, "that vase of red flowers you sent to Ed's room this morning. It had a note attached to it."

Both the Colonel and Hawkeye were still giving him blank looks, so he stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the note with Mustang's signature on it and handed it to him. "You really don't remember?"

The man opened the note slowly, as if worried that a hidden tripwire might make it blow up in his face. His expression only grew darker as he read the short message.

"Boys," said Hawkeye. Even serious, she was still drop-dead gorgeous in Sanji's opinion. "The Colonel and I have been in the office all morning. Neither of us sent you flowers."

Ed paled. "But that means…"

"It means someone knows about 'our predicament', as this person puts it," said Mustang. He placed the folded note on his desk and tapped it with a single finger. "Someone who also wants us to _know_ that he knows, and be together when we find out."

Alphonse scratched his head like he did when he was confused. "But the only person who could possibly understand what the transmutation circle did is an expert in soul transmutation, or…."

"Right," Mustang said. "Colbra Doran, the man in question himself."

Edward grinned. "So now that maniac is back here? Sound's great." He clenched his right fist and lifted it up. "I can't wait to give him one of these, up close and personal. He won't even see me coming."

"You," said Mustang, setting a closed file on his desk, "are not going to be seeing Colbra Doran anytime soon, because I have a different assignment for you."

Edward gaped, but then his surprise turned to anger. "You have Al and me chaise this nut-head all across Amestris, and now that he's right under our noses you want me to just drop the assignment?"

"As of right now, yes."

"You can't do that! I have a bone to pick with this guy too, you know! I'm not just going to-"

Mustang raised a hand, silencing Edward's angry onslaught. "I _said_ , as of _right now_ , Fullmetal. Now, are you going to let me explain your new assignment – which might be able to shed some light on our _little problem_ – or are you going to continue on with the pouty fit?"

The younger boy girt his teeth, but chose not to say anything else, even if he didn't look very happy about it. After observing Edward's silence, Mustang flipped open the file, revealing the profile of a balding old man. Crooked teeth protruded out from under a thick mustache and an equally crooked nose. He seemed almost…excited, which was unusual considering most people didn't look happy in their profile pictures. From what Sanji could glimpse from Edward's head, it was kind of the military's policy to make everyone as miserable as possible.

"This is Jacob Bernstein, born in 1841. He was once an esteemed doctor of the Amestris army before the current Fuhrer came to power, and retired from duty in 1884 after receiving a rather severe head injury. However, in 1891 he was reinstated into the military, only this time as a state alchemist."

Both Ed and Al studied the picture carefully. "Now why would a retired army doctor suddenly take an interest in alchemy?" Edward wondered.

Mustang shrugged. "Beats me. However, I do know that after Bernstein's first forced retirement, after his head injury, he opened up a private clinic. And his very last recorded client was…."

"Let me guess," Alphonse said. "It was Colbra Doran, wasn't it?"

Leaning forward, Mustang placed his chin on interlaced fingers and smiled. The smirk reminded Sanji of a hound ready to pounce on an unsuspecting rabbit. "Exactly. And not only is that the very first record we have of Colbra Doran, but Bernstein's state alchemist certification was revoked only twelve years ago for the same reason we began to investigate Doran."

Edward looked up. "And that was….?"

"Suspected involvement with human transmutation."

For the second time that day, images of a dark room swept past Sanji's mental eye. They were so fast, he was only able to catch a few of them, but what he did see made him wish he hadn't. They were disoriented, bloody, and accompanied by a suffocating sense of loss and pain. Whatever this human transmutation was, it wasn't good, and Sanji suspected it had something to do with Edward's missing appendages.

Ed stiffened, but nothing about his features gave away the inner turmoil Sanji knew was going on inside his head. "So you want me to talk to the guy. Sounds easy enough."

"Glad to hear you're on board." Mustang proffered a folder that probably held Edward's mission specifications. "The good news is that he lives only a few miles west of New Optain, which means you shouldn't be gone very long. If you hurry, maybe I'll let you be part of the action once we track down Doran."

"Jerk," Edward muttered sourly.

It was then that his stomach decided it was tired of being ignored, producing a very unflattering sound. Edward looked shocked for a moment, then grimaced.

"Brother!" Alphonse scolded. "I tried to tell you that you should have eaten before we left!"

Edward blushed. "Oh, shut up Al! I was distracted!"

"Maybe you should get yourself something to eat first, Ed," said Hawkeye, smiling at them. "Don't worry, I'll make sure the Colonel doesn't start counting how long it takes for you to get back until after you've had a chance to eat."

Edward smiled back at her. "Thanks Lieutenant. Come on Al, let's go find somewhere nice to eat where mister dainty doesn't stick his nose up at everything!"

_Hey, I heard that!_

"Oh, and Fullmetal?"

Edward turned back to the desk, meeting Mustang's eyes. The man looked grim as the he tapped the side of his head slowly. "Be careful. You never know what could happen."

Sanji understood the message perfectly. They might have to work together, but these were military men, and Sanji and Zoro were lawbreakers. Even if they didn't know about them being pirates, the line between judge and criminal was always clear, even if morality was not.

The Colonel knew they were hiding something, and he didn't trust them. Not by a longshot.


	5. A drink is a man's best friend

Sometimes Mustang wondered if the entire world was against him.

Ok, so maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but no one had done a very good job so far of proving him wrong. He thought he might make a list, and he would start with the plump nurse behind the hospital's third floor main desk.

"I am sorry sir, but Edward Elric's last recorded stay was some months ago," she said in her overly-cheery tone, flipping through the files it had taken her eighteen minutes to find.

Mustang ground his teeth together, completely forgoing his usual flirtatious methods. He really wasn't in the mood for this today. "That's impossible, he was just here this morning. Check your files again. I need to know if he had any irregular visitors."

The nurse flipped the file shut and clicked her tong. "If it ain't there, then it ain't there. Sorry sweetie. You sure it wasn't someone else's file I should be looking at? Oh, there's a Mathew Edrics here! Could it be him you're looking for?"

"Edward. Elric. State. Alchemist."

She pressed the file against her large bosom, looking offended. "No need to get snippy. If you want, I'll go check with the one of the nurses stationed this morning and see if I can find any information on a mister Edric."

"Elric."

"Of course."

Waking over to the small waiting lounge, Mustang flopped into the nearest chair and closed his eyes. It was at times like this that Mustang remembered the usefulness of his subordinates. Too bad all of them were busy investigating Colbra's other trails around the city, or else they would be here instead of him. He had purposely put them in pairs, as this case had, at least in his head, become much more dangerous now that he knew Colbra was watching them.

In addition to that, he didn't particularly like the idea that the alchemist knew enough about him to send a note to Edward and convince him that it was written by Roy. Edward was a lot of things, but a moron wasn't one of them. At least not all of the time.

Opening his eyes, Mustang glanced over at his first lieutenant. She was standing faithfully beside his chair, just as he knew she would be. He remembered the conversation they had when he first got out of the hospital, when he had officially "told" Hawkeye about Zoro. It had gone something like:

"Colonel, are you sure you're alright?"

"No, Lieutenant. I was electrocuted, died, was in a coma, and now Fullmetal and I have two manic-depressive thugs inside our heads who want to get back to their home on the other side of the gate. So no, I am not alright."

Her reply had been something along the lines of: "…oh."

Now Mustang wondered if that answer had been too inconsiderate of him. Yes, he had been tired and cranky – he still was – but she deserved a better explanation then that.

"I thought you were joking," Hawkeye said quietly just as Roy was about to open his mouth, as if she had read his mind. Sometimes Mustang wondered if she really could. "About earlier, I mean."

"Would I ever joke with you?" he asked seriously.

"No. That's why I was worried."

He nodded. "It does sound crazy. If anyone else told me a story like that, I would think they were lying. Or insane. But I have a circle on my shoulder now showing that my body has somehow become a host to two entirely separate, yet conjoined, consciousnesses. I assume Edward has a circle somewhere on his person as well."

From the corner of his eye, Mustang saw Hawkeye shift her weight. Something was troubling her. "I'm not an expert on alchemy, sir, but it doesn't sound like that should be possible."

"I agree, which is why it's even more imperative that Edward and I understand how Colbra designed that transmutation circle, along with determining his alchemic capabilities, so that we can undo whatever it was that he did."

This time Hawkeye turned toward him, and he flicked his gaze up to meet hers. "Is there anything about this person that I should know?"

Mustang opened his mouth to replay – possibly to tell the lieutenant about Zoro's tendencies toward rashness and general stupidity – when he suddenly found it quite impossible to move his mouth. He tried to clench his jaw, but it wasn't him in control anymore.

"You could ask him yourself," his mouth said snidely in an annoyed voice.

The lieutenant's eye widened a little, just enough so that Mustang knew she was alarmed, but trying not to show it. "So you're him."

As quick as he could, Mustang snatched back control of his mouth. "Yes, that was him," he said, annoyed. "The idiot doesn't seem to get that this body doesn't belong to him."

_Who're you calling an idiot, you stuck up jacka-"_

"And as the icing on the cake, I get his wonderful commentary to keep me company in replace of the donkey I always wanted."

Roy may have had control over his mouth, but the remainder of this body was still under Zoro's influence. This became painfully apparent when his right leg swung forward, then back, driving into his left shin.

"Yeah…." he hissed through his teeth, leaning forward and clutching at his throbbing appendage. "Just delightful."

Hawkeye was frowning at him now. "Is this going to be a problem, sir?"

"Shouldn't be, if I can just get him to shut up or stop falling asleep for two-"

Mustang stopped at a call from down the hallway.

"Hey Roy!"

He gowned. Only one person in Central called him by his first name.

Near the end of the walkway, just before it turned to form the stairs, Lt. Colonel Maes Hughes was waving at him. He had on a bright smile, so wide that it seemed to overtake his entire face.

"Glad to see you're still here!" he said, jogging over to where Mustang was sitting. "Heard you and the kid got into some kind of Alchemy accident. Sorry I couldn't get here sooner, I had some urgent business for one of my cases come up."

"Last time I saw you, you were drunk and pawned 800 cenz off of me," Mustang said, glaring.

"Haha, yeah…" Maes laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "About that…"

"Oh, mister Colonel, sir!" said the plump nurse he had been talking to earlier. Mustang turned to her as she walked down the hall, waving a file above her head. "I found the appointment paper you were looking for!"

"Oh?" he said, standing up.

_Took her long enough,_ Zoro snorted.

The large nurse flittered about like an excited bird, opening the file and handing him the top paper. "The list was still at his room. You see, Mister Elric was actually here just this morning! Can you imagine that?"

"Shocking," he said flatly.

"Well," she continued, "he did have a couple of visitors. One by the name of Alphonse Elric, which I suppose was his younger brother. And there's another name here, a one-"

"Alfred Buvik."

Mustang turned to Maes, who had been reading the sloppily written name over his shoulder. The Lt. Colonel's eyes were wider than normal behind his glasses.

"Do you know who he is?"

Seeing that everyone was looking at him, Maes laughed and shook his head. "No, no, just thought the name sounded familiar, is all…"

Mustang narrowed his eyes. Maes wasn't telling them something. He was going to have to ask him about that later.

"Thank you." Mustang told the nurse. "That's everything I wanted to know."

"You're so very welcome!" she said brightly. "You go ahead and keep that paper, I'll just make a copy."

He nodded as the lady tromped away. Well, at least this trip hadn't been a total waste of time.

Maes walked beside him, lost in thought, as all three headed for the stairwell. Looking closely, Mustang noticed something about his friend that he hadn't seen before. Maes was tired. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, and his hair looked as if he hadn't even bothered to fix it after getting out of bed – if he had even gone to bed that night at all. Mustang thought about what Maes said earlier, that something had come up in one of his cases. He wondered what that something might be.

"You know who Alfred Buvik is, don't you."

Hughes turned to him as they walked down the stairs, mouth set in a grim line. "There are a few things I need to tell you. Things involving the case you're working on now." Then, lowering his voice, "but I can't say anything here."

Suddenly, Maes threw his arm around Roy's shoulder just as they got to the main floor, laughing loudly. "So why don't you come drinking again with me tonight! I can pay you that 800 cenz I owe you, and you can ask me about anything you want! That sound alright?"

Mustang stumbled and almost fell as Maes leaned heavily against him. "What? No-!"

"Aw, come on! Don't you want to hang with your best buddy?"

Mustang opened his mouth to inform Maes that the last time they had gone drinking together, he had ended up with the most terrible hangover of his life before getting transmuted and falling into a coma, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was an enthusiastic "hell yes!"

All three of them stopped, looking surprised. Mustang most of all.

_Hell yes?_ He thought so loud he might as well have yelled it. _HELL YES?_ _Since when do you get a say in what I do with my time?!_

_Since I heard the word "drinking,"_ Zoro replied offhandedly.

Maes blinked, then he grinned. "Well alright then! Let's go!"

"Wait, I-"

"It's alright sir," Hawkeye said. Mustang turned to her. She was looking at the paper the nurse had given them (how did she get that?), but turned back to look at him a second later and smiled. "You should go with him. I'll be sure to bring this information back to the office, but in the meantime you need a break. You were just in the hospital, remember?"

Considering what she had said, drinking was probably the last thing he needed to be doing. However, Roy understood her meaning. Hues had something he needed to tell Mustang – something important – and didn't feel comfortable enough to say it here.

"That settles it!" Hughes said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along as if they were twelve-year-old boys. "Off we go!"

Mustang let the man guide them outside, regretting every step.

_Whatever happens from this point onward, I blame you._

_Yeah, yeah,_ Zoro muttered, and Mustang could just imagine him leaning back and closing his eyes. _As long as there's beer._

* * *

And there _was_ beer. Quite a lot, as it turned out. Enough beer for Maes to pay back the 800 cenz that he owed, and enough for Mustang to start up his own tab.

"Whoa there, maybe you should slow down," Maes said, looking concerned.

"Maybe," Roy muttered, before taking another long swig of the bottle he was holding. As soon as he'd entered the building, a horrible thirst had overcome him that seemed to be only quenchable with the hardest alcohol in the bar. Mustang was beginning to suspect Zoro might have had something to do with that.

"You dragged me all the way here," he said. "Are you going to tell me what's so important that you couldn't say it at the hospital?"

Hughes set his own drink down and met his friend's eyes. "Well, I do have something very important to tell you, but first, Roy, I need you to be straight with me."

"What do you mean?"

Hues was dead-serious now, something that didn't happen very often. "I need you to tell me everything that happened that night, when you and Ed were caught in that transmutation circle."

Mustang looked away. "You should know from the main report. Ed called me in to help him inspect a possible lead to Colbra Doran, the man I assigned him to investigate. One of the circles activated, I'm still not sure how, and we were both caught in it when I tried to push Fullmetal out of the way."

"But that's not everything that happened, is it?"

"No,"

Mustang looked back at him. "How do you know all this information? I told Fullmetal not to say anything."

Maes gave him a small smile. "Information is my specialty, remember? Besides, it wasn't Edward who told me. I've had my suspicions about Colbra Doran ever since you were given the order to track him down. Human Transmutation is bad enough, but my suspicions about his other activities were confirmed when I saw Alfred Buvik's name on Ed's visitor list."

"And what suspicions were those?"

Maes opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a shout from behind them.

"Hey Colonel!"

Mustang groaned loudly and rested his forehead against the bar counter. Could he not get two seconds without someone yelling at him?

Taking another long swig from his bottle, Roy turned around to face the inevitable.

"I didn't know you came here," said 2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc, cigarette stuck in his mouth. Warrant Officer Vato Falman and 2nd Lieutenant Heymans Breda stood beside him, each still in uniform.

_I_ don't _come here,_ he thought sourly. The place smelled of sweat and old cigars, but it was also noisy and lots of military came here after their shifts were over. Maes had probably hoped it would be a good place to talk with Roy in private and not be spied on. Apparently his choice had been a little _too_ popular.

"Great, you're all here," he said mordantly, leaning back and dirking more beer.

Breda had been giving him a weird look, but when Roy took another sip of his bottle he stepped forward and narrowed his eyes, asking, "Colonel…are you drunk?"

"What?" Mustang exclaimed, " _Noooo_."

Havoc's face broke out into a wide smile. "You are, aren't you?" He laughed. "Look everyone, Colonel Mustang's drunk!"

Roy could feel his face heat up as everyone in the room cheered and his men crowded around the bar. "Am not," he said.

_Course you aren't,_ said Zoro, smirking. _Then what was that_ "noooo" _about?_

_Shut up._

"It's all right, Colonel," Breda told him, smiling. "We've just never seen this side of you before. We should celebrate. Hey, Tender! We'll take three whiskeys over here!"

Roy hunched up in his seat as everyone talked and laughed around him, not quite in the mood to join the fun. Sure, he liked his fair share of rowdy celebration, but something seemed…off. It was as if he could feel someone watching him, someone who knew his secrets and wouldn't hesitate to shout them to the world.

_Maybe I am drunk,_ he thought.

_Hey, you should let me take over for a little bit. I want to join in._

_What?! Not in a million…_

But it was too late. Zoro pulled his arm up and gulped down the rest of the beer, enough that it made Mustang's head spin. Once he was done, he reached over and grabbed Havoc's whiskey right out of his hand, chugging that as well.

"Hey!" Jean yelled, but the rest of them just laughed and handed Mustang another bottle.

After that, things got…fuzzy.

"Jeez, Chief, you sure you haven't had enough?" Havoc asked, but by then he was looking a slight bit tipsy himself.

"Whooz are you calling chief, spike brain?" Zoro said, his voice a little slurred. "I could drink more'n you any day!"

"Ha! We'll see about that." Havoc held up his glass. "Another round on the Colonel!"

Everyone cheered, and Falman and Breda clinked their glasses together.

_What?_ Mustang thought blearily, but by then his thoughts were beginning to fade. Not being in control meant that he didn't really need to pay much attention to what was going on, and his stay in the hospital and the long, grueling day at the office was starting to get to him.

A little after that, he was sitting on top of the bar, pointing at someone with the wide end of a whiskey bottle. "Wha'd ya say!" he yelled. "I an't no damn marine! I'ma be the greatest swordsman in the world! Ya'll see!"

_What's going on…._ Mustang thought groggily.

"Shut up, horse boy!" Zoro said loudly. "Stop talkin' in my head… I know what I'm doing…I don't get drunk…."

He leaned forward as his head swam and he began to feel sick. As he did so, the table seemed to just slip out from underneath him.

"Whoa there," someone said, and there was suddenly two strong arms holding him up from under his armpits. "I think it's about time you went home."

Mustang pushed off the person as he tried to straighten his body into a standing position. "So'kay," he muttered. He looked over to see Maes staring at him worriedly. "I'll walk. I can walk."

Maes shook his head. "Roy, do you even know where you are? I think I'll flag down a cab."

Mustang didn't try to argue as the man led him by the shoulder out of the bar, just as he had led him inside. Neither did he argue as he was shoved into a hard seat a few minutes later, to dizzy to make an escape attempt. Maes was still staring at him when he opened his eyes, trying not to fall asleep.

_Was' he looking at?_ he thought. Or maybe that was Zoro.

_How shhould I know?_ Zoro answered. Or maybe that was him.

By the time they reached his apartment, Maes had to practically carry Roy inside.

"Don't need nobody's help…" he was muttering. He looked over at Maes. "Ima face him one day, ya know that? Ima face him and next time I'll beat him. I'ma be the greatest swordsman in the sea…"

"Uh-ha," Hughes said patiently, helping Roy to lay down on his bed. Mustang wasn't wearing his uniform anymore, and he couldn't remember having taken it off.

Then Maes was gone for a moment, returning with a tall glass of water. "Drink this."

"Don't want it…" he mumbled, but didn't argue when the man lifted his head so that he could take a sip. Afterwards he laid Roy's head back down and set the water on the bedside table.

"You're going to have quite a hangover tomorrow," he said, not really to Roy, but not really to himself either. "I wouldn't have taken you to a bar if I knew you were that desperate for a drink."

Mustang only grunted and rolled over onto his stomach, trying to get more comfortable. His head was swimming with images of people he had never seen and places he had never been. People he _should never_ meet at places he _should never_ be. He didn't want to see them. He just wanted to sleep.

Maes sighed. "I'll let Riza know that you probably won't be in the office tomorrow." Then he got up and went to turn out the lights.

"Maes?" Mustang called.

"Yeah buddy?"

"I'ma…alive, right?"

Hughes smiled at him. "Of course you are."

He grunted again. "Just…checkin'."

"Alright. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"An' Maes?"

"Yes?"

"I know what I'm doin'. Doesn't seem like it. But I know…I know what I'm doing."

His friend gave him one long look before smiling again. Then he flicked out the lights and softly closed the door to Mustang's bedroom.

"Sometimes I wonder," he said, but Roy was already asleep.


	6. At least it can't get any worse, right?

The first thing Zoro remembered when he woke up was that he was supposed to have a hangover. Back in his world, where things made sense, he had gotten drunk so many times without feeling any effects it was practically impossible to get a hangover. He supposed that Mustang probably didn't have the alcohol tolerance he had, seeing as the man was a total pansy, but he never thought the hangover would blind him.

It was a strange blindness though, all white instead of black. Except he couldn't be blind, because when he looked down, he could see his clothes, splotches of black soot covering his previously white shirt where the lightning had singed it.

Wait.

Zoro raised his head – _his_ head – and looked around. Not that there was anything to look at, but that didn't keep the Déjà vu alarm from blaring in the back of his head.

He had been here once before, when he had been struck by lightning and "died".

So….what? Had he finally kicked it? For real this time? He looked at his open hand, which, besides being a little pale, appeared normal. Was that dimwit marine such a lightweight that it killed both of them, and he was now a ghost? If that were the case, death by alcohol poisoning was probably the most pitiful thing fate could have thrown at him. Either that or being bludgeoned to death by midgets or something.

A few minutes passed and Zoro was starting to wonder if he was going to be here forever, when something just emerged from the whiteness. It appeared to be pretty far away, but seeing as there wasn't much sense of perception in this place, it could have been right in front of his freakin' face for all Zoro knew. At first it was only a tiny speck, but as he watched, the speck grew until it was a dot, and then what appeared to be a blurry image came into view.

Surrounded by a hazy outline, he could see the bland white walls and ceiling of what seemed like a hospital – or at least a medical room. The hole continued to grow until it stopped right in front of him like a window. Zoro wondered if it really was a window to something, or, if he walked around it, he would find nothing.

"What's going on?" he asked quietly to no one in particular. He tried to touch the window, but as he reached forward, he realized that the image was much larger and farther away than he'd first thought.

The sound of a door opening echoed from the image, followed shortly after by a strange, hollow-sounding set of footsteps. They paused for a moment, then continued as the thing producing them scurried forward. They stopped just as a brown, fur-covered face with a red hat and a blue nose popped into view.

"Zoro!" the face cried, smiling brightly at him.

"…Chopper?" Zoro said.

"Zoro, can you hear me?" the little blue-nosed deer asked.

"Chopper!" Zoro grinned and waved both his arms in greeting. A lot had happened since the last time he had laid eyes on the Going Merry's little doctor, and seeing him now was like a breath of fresh of air. If Chopper could talk to him, maybe there was a chance he wasn't dead after all, and they could find their way back to the ship.

But the little deer didn't seem to have heard Zoro. Instead, his smile slowly faded, to be replaced by a deep look of concern. "…Zoro?"

"Chopper!" Zoro repeated. His face fell. Could Chopper not see him? And if not, who was he talking to?

Zoro tried waving his arms again. "I'm right here!"

"Zoro," the little deer said again, his face beginning to fall into a look Zoro knew meant he was going to cry. "Wake up, Zoro. Please wake up. We need you."

The sound of the door opening again interrupted Chopper just as large tears began to form at the corners of his eyes, and Zoro heard another familiar voice. "Chopper, what's going on?"

"Nami!" the little doctor cried, bouncing out of view, and Zoro could picture him running over and hugging the red-headed navigator.

"What is it, Chopper? Is something wrong with Zoro?"

"His-his eyes were open Nami! I thought he was waking up, b-b-but he still isn't responding!"

Zoro froze. Waking up? _So in our world…my body is only sleeping?_

"I'm sorry Chopper," said Nami's voice from the window. "I'm sure they'll wake up soon." Then, in a smaller voice, she whispered, "we really do need them right now."

Then the door opened once again as he heard them walk out of the room.

Zoro panicked.

"Wait!" he shouted, reaching for the window, feeling more powerless than he ever had before. "Chopper! Nami! Don't leave, ya morons! I'm right here!"

Zoro began to run, but nothing changed. He was still too far away.

He was still too _far_ , dammit!

"Chop-"

Zoro's yell ended in a choke as something cold grabbed his ankle.

He looked down.

During the time Zoro had been watching the window, the world around him had darkened. The space beneath him was now as black as tar, as if he was balanced above a bottomless pool so deep he could never hope to touch the bottom. And out of that void reached thousands of tiny hands, waving and grabbing for his legs. The one already latched onto his ankle began to pull.

"Oh no you don't!" Zoro growled, but no matter how much he kicked and struggled, the cold, black hand refused to loosen its grip.

"Chopper!" Zoro called again, but the only window into his world had already been replaced by darkness.

* * *

Zoro woke up gasping.

A clock somewhere was chiming, its soft dongs just barley feasible above his breaths and the pounding in his chest. They ended very suddenly, leaving an empty echo behind.

Zoro looked around. The room was plain and unremarkable, and the bed beneath him was unfamiliar. He placed a hand on his pounding head, trying to remember where he was and what was going on.

Ah yes. The hangover.

Well, at least now he knew why everyone else was always complaining about them. Low alcohol tolerance _sucked_.

Groaning, Zoro tried to remember the reason he had woken up so panicked. He remembered something about a white void, and maybe…hands? He thought harder.

Zoro sat bolt upright, only to instantly regret it when it felt like a sea king had taken a bite out of the front of his skill. Still, the pounding in his head didn't stop a small smile from crossing his face.

He was still alive on the other side of the gate, him and Sanji both. Not that he _cared_ about the dumbass or anything, but at least they still had someone to keep Luffy from eating all the food. He knew a little lightning couldn't keep him down for long. Now if only he could get his head back across the gate, everything'd be just peachy.

In likely a better mood then he had been in since crossing the gate, Zoro slowly got to his feet and walked to the water closet. He scooped a handful of water from the sink and splashed it over his face. It didn't really help the headache all that much, but at least he'd tried.

Looking back up, Zoro stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirror. It was probably handsome, if you were into the whole "look at me, I'm a professional asshole" sort of charisma. Looks had never really been something Zoro cared much about, but he still missed his green hair. He supposed it was good, however, that he hadn't landed in some twig, even if Mustang wasn't nearly as muscular as his own body.

Zoro furrowed his brow and the alien face in the mirror copied his expression. For the first time since waking up, he'd noticed that something was missing.

It was quiet.

A little _too_ quiet.

Wasn't there supposed to be someone else in his head? Possibly the person who _owned_ the head?

Zoro closed his eyes and felt around for the stupid marine. Oh, he was there alright, but at the moment he seemed to be fast asleep.

_Hey, wake up moron._

… _ummmaghhh…._

_Get up, before I decide to strip naked and ruin your precious reputation._

He felt a groan and a soft push from Mustang's side of the brain, as if the man was waving him away… _give me…a minute…_

Zoro rolled his eyes. Well, it wasn't like he blamed the man. Things up front weren't exactly a joyride.

Turning, Zoro inspected the circle on his shoulder. It looked for all the world like an ordinary tattoo, but the marine had said it acted like a link, holding his mind to this body. Remembering his dream, he wondered what would happen if he was somehow able to remove it.

Brushing his fingers over the circle, Zoro shuddered, deciding it was probably better not to try. He felt…fragile when he touched it, as if he was only a string stretched between two places, and doing anything to the circle would cause him to snap.

And Zoro didn't do fragile.

"Screw that," he growled, turning away from the mirror.

Zoro's thoughts were rudely interrupted by a loud, ringing noise coming from outside the bedroom. He grimaced, wondering if the sound was just inside the apartment, or if it was also reverberating around behind his eyeballs.

Walking out of the bedroom and into the hall, he looked around for the source of the irritation. It wasn't until he was in the kitchen did he find where it was coming from: one of those weird-looking devices he had seen Mustang use in his office. He supposed they worked something like a transponder snail.

He picked up the device to stop the noise, but now was left with the problem of what to do with the person on the other side of the line. He supposed it wouldn't be very gentlemanly to instantly hang up.

Grudgingly, he put the phone to his ear.

"…Hello?"

" _Roy! Thank God you picked up. I was starting to think you were going to sleep all morning!"_

It was that men from yesterday….Maze, or something like that. Zoro was about to tell the blabber-mouth to screw off when he remembered that this wasn't his body, and that he should probably be waking up the _real_ Mustang right about now.

" _Roy…is everything alright?"_

Zoro grimaced. "Uh…yes?"

He mentally slapped himself. Wasn't Mustang some kind of big-named General or something? He needed to sound more important – more…bigheaded.

Zoro cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm fine. It's just the hangover."

" _Oh, sorry about that."_ The man on the other end sounded guilty. _"I'll try to keep it down."_

He grunted, which seemed to be an acceptable answer because the man continued talking.

" _I was calling to see if you were in the mood to swing by my office today. I know you probably don't feel like doing anything, but the news I need to tell you is pretty important. I didn't get the chance to last night."_

"Oh," he said. Unsurprisingly, Zoro didn't remember much about the night before. At least he had one thing he could be thankful about. "I guess I'll be there later."

" _Great! Oh, and Roy?"_

"Yeah?"

" _You sure you're all right?"_

"I said I'm fine. Why?"

" _Well I…well, nevermind. Forget I said anything. I'll talk to you when you get here."_

With that, the other line went dead. Zoro didn't know if his misperformance of Mustang was a good thing or a bad thing. He decided he would consider it an accomplishment. The less he sounded like a narcissistic jackass, the better.

Mustang was just waking up when Zoro opened the refrigerator, looking for something decent to eat.

_Ug…What's this about stripping naked…? Ow, my head hurts._

_Hey, you got any steak?_

_For breakfast?_

_How should I know what you weirdos eat on this planet?_

_I'll make bacon….and coffee. A_ lot _of coffee._

While Mustang took over, Zoro kicked back and decided to take a little nap. The more he was able to sleep through this day, the better.

 _Hey, meathead?_ Mustang asked.

Zoro growled… _What?_

_Do you remember what happened last night?_

_No. Do you?_

_I…choose not to remember._

Zoro grunted. _Oh, and by the way, one of your friends called while you were beauty sleeping._

"What!?" Mustang shouted, and both of them winced.

_You talked to someone on the phone?! Who was it?_

_The annoyingly happy one. Said he wanted to talk to you in his office._

_Maes?_ _You talked to_ Maes _on the phone?_ The marine groaned and placed a hand on his forehead. _Him finding out more about this situation is the last thing I need right now._

_Relax pretty boy. He thought I was you. Mostly._

_We need to head over to Maes's office,_ Mustang said irritably. _Right now. Ug, I can't believe this is happening._

 _Whatever,_ Zoro said. He was officially done with today. As Mustang dressed in his marine outfit and prepared to leave, Zoro only opened his eyes (metaphorically, or course) long enough to remind the stupid marine to take the coffee with him.

* * *

They found Maes standing in the hall outside his office, looking as if he was lost in thought. The bags under his eyes told Zoro that he had likely been lost in thought for a long time.

Mustang cleared his throat and Maes jerked, as if he had just come out of a trance.

"Roy! Didn't think you'd get here this early. God, you look terrible."

"Thanks," Mustang grumbled. "Looking pretty great yourself."

Maes smiled, yet somehow the expression made him look even more tired. "Yeah, I've been a little preoccupied with…a new assignment."

"Alfred Buvik."

Nodding, Maes raised a finger and beckoned for Mustang to follow him into his office.

"Mind pulling the curtains?" asked Mustang, covering his eyes from the light of the morning sun and sinking heavily into a chair. He placed the coffee on Maes's desk.

Maes covered the windows, then sat down across from the marine. However, Instead of commenting on Mustang's hangover like Zoro expected him to, the man just sat there and stared at them silently.

"…Hughes? Something wrong?"

He pulled one of those tired smiles again. "Funny you should ask that, Roy, because I definitely think so."

Zoro cracked open an eye (metaphorically of cor– oh, screw it, you know what he meant) and snorted. _You could say that again._

_Shut up. My head hurts enough without you talking in it._

Maes shifted through some of the files on top of the mountain of paperwork covering his desk, finally finding one out and setting it in front of Mustang. He then pulled out another one from underneath his desk. "I've been doing some research on the man you mentioned, Alfred Buvik. Ordinarily, he is just a small-time crook, nothing for me and my team to concern ourselves with. However, that was before I got a tipoff that he had been doing some illegal dealings with one of the more…unsavory groups around Central."

"How unsavory are we talking?"

"The Miners."

Mustang nodded, but Zoro was still confused. _Who's "The Miners?" They don't sound all that special._

_They're a group of rogue alchemists that went underground about twelve years ago. Most people in the military think they all died, but if rumors have gotten around that they're still breathing, that'd definitely be something Maes would look into._

_Ok, great._ Zoro paused. _…What are alchemists?_

_Ugh, just…nevermind. Forgot who I was talking to._

Zoro sensed an insult in that, but decided to forgo the thought in favor of listening to the ongoing conversation.

"What did you find out?" asked Mustang.

Maes lifted his hands, palms facing upward. "Nothing."

Mustang frowned. "Nothing? Then what's this all about?"

"I haven't able to find a single clue about his whereabouts," Maes said. "If fact since I started looking into him, our little friend Alfred here seems to have disappeared off of the face of Amestris." Then he leaned forward. "That is until yesterday, when I saw his name on Edward's hospital guest list."

"Ah." Mustang leaned back in his seat. "So you think our two cases are connected."

"Yes."

"So we should compare notes," Mustang said, but raised a finger. "However, that still doesn't explain why you felt the need to take me to a bar to talk about your newest lead."

"Let's just say that I wasn't too keen on someone overhearing our conversation in a military-governed hospital," Maes said, lowering his voice a notch or two. "If fact, I'm especially not comfortable with us meeting together like this. I would have liked to have talked about this at the bar, which would have appeared normal, seeing as the two of us are friends. However, circumstances being as they are, you seeing me in my office is much less suspicious then me going over to your house."

"Maes," Mustang said seriously. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"

"Don't you think it was a little funny that the brass asked you, a highly respected colonel, to chaise after a man whose only accusation was that he had only been _researching_ human transmutation?"

Mustang frowned. "What's your point?"

"My point," Maes said, pushing forward one of the files with two fingers, "is that you may not know everything there is to know about Colbra Doran or his involvement with the military."

When Mustang flipped open the file, the first thing Zoro noticed was that the face in the upper right corner was _not_ Colbra Doran. He did think he had seen the man before, though from where he was having a hard time remembering…

"This is Jacob Bernstein, the man to supposedly have had first contact with Doran" Mustang said, confused. "Not Doran himself."

Ah, yes. Him.

_I was just researching him yesterday._

_Well, it was boring. I fell asleep._

"That," Maes said, pointing to the folder in Mustang's hand, "is what you and everyone else were given regarding Jacob, his work with alchemy, and his involvement with Doran. And this," he slid forward the other folder, "is what you _weren't_."

Slowly, Mustang picked up the other folder and flipped it open. On the inside were what appeared to be a mad scientist's scribbles. They were disjointed and hard to read – even harder to understand; the few words that Zoro could make out didn't make any sense whatsoever.

But they apparently made sense to the marine, because the man's breath caught in this throat.

"This is…" Mustang muttered, flipping slowly through the pages, eyes widening with every new set of confusing scrawls. Finally, he got to the last page and froze.

Held tightly in the man's gloved hand was a rough sketch of a…transformational, whatya-ma-call-it, circley-thing, like the one on Mustang's shoulder that linked Zoro's soul to the marine's body. And even though Zoro was sure he had never seen the image before, it was impossible to mistake Mustang's recognition of it.

"This is the transmutation circle Doran created that and Ed and I were caught in," Mustang said lowly. "But these experiments Jacob did…"

"Were run and supervised by orders of the military," Maes finished for him.

 _I'm still confused,_ Zoro said. _What's it matter what the military does?_

"It means they were playing with human transmutation," Mustang said quietly. "That circle we were caught in was a human transmutation circle." Grimacing, he raised his eyes to meet Maes's level gaze.

"Which brings me to the main reason I wanted to talk to you yesterday," Maes said. "To get the truth."

"Isn't finding out why the government is conducting illegal experiments a little more important right now?"

Maes raised an eyebrow. "Probably, but that has been kept a secret nearly twelve years; it can wait a few more hours. Right now I'm more concerned about you, my best friend, and the fifteen-year-old boy who both just got transmuted by a _human transmutation_ circle three days ago."

Mustang scowled. "There's nothing wrong with either Ed or me."

"Yesterday you said that you were hearing voices, and that was before you told me you were going to be a _swordsman_ on the _ocean_."

"I was drunk!"

Maes stood up so abruptly that his chair almost toppled over – his hands flat on his desk, startling both Mustang and Zoro. " _Dammit_ , Roy!" he said, frustrated, face blatantly angry. "This is serious! Do you know how jeopardizing it is for me to simply know those notes _exist_? And I read them. All of them. And I'm not an alchemist Roy, but I don't have to be a genius to know what _one-hundred percent fatality_ rate means. No one and no thing they tried to transmute survived that circle."

Mustang didn't answer right away, and even though the man's face was blank, Zoro could tell that the outburst had thrown him.

 _You should tell him,_ Zoro said offhandedly.

_And since when was it your concern who I tell that I have a person inside my head?_

_Since_ I _was the person inside your head? Besides, you told that Hawk-lady, didn't you? What's so different about this dude?_

_Riza is…Riza. She might have shot me if she thought I was someone else…But I see your point._

Mustang sighed, defeated. "Alright Maes, you win. I'll tell you everything."

Maes blinked, as if surprised that he had won the man over so easily, but the small smile forming under his tired eyes was genuine. "Thanks, Roy. I-"

But before Maes could finish his sentence, the window behind his head exploded with a resounding crash and something large, scaly, and definitely _not-human_ landed amidst a hail of glass onto the desk.

"FLAME ALCHEMIST!" 


	7. Madness makes the mind

"Remind me again why we're walking to Sandswal?" Ed asked.

It was hot.

Very hot.

The sun beat down on the earth with no regard for the lifeforms beneath its sweltering rays, and sweat dripped down Ed's face as if he were a melting ice-cream cone. At this point he was beginning to despise his choice in automail. Maybe wooden limbs would have been better than hot metal.  _Anything_  was better than hot metal.

"Because we couldn't find anyone to take us from the train station?" Alphonse suggested.

"Oh," Ed said disappointedly, arms hanging at his side. Now he remembered. "Well, I guess I can see why. This wasteland just popped out of nowhere,"

 _I thought only the desert across to Xing was supposed to be this hot,_ Ed wondered, shading his eyes so that he could see the shimmery, empty road ahead. His feet dragged across the dry path, kicking up small balls of dust.

For some reason, Ed had found himself in the foulest of moods ever since they got off the overnight train at a little station just east of New Optain. In addition to being hot enough to fry bacon on his palm, Ed felt jittery and hypersensitive, and going over Mustang's mission specifications, however brief they were, had done little to improve his mood.

"The bastard," Ed growled to himself as he kicked up more dust with his boot, thinking about the folder that was now in his luggage case. "He could have at least been more specific when he said 'a little walk' from the station."

They had been hiking for what felt like hours now, and the cool of morning was long since gone, replaced by scorching heat and endless road.

 _What's up with you?_  Ed asked, remembering the voice that was normally talking in his mind. Sanji had been awfully quiet for the last….however many miles, and Ed was starting to wonder where he went.

Come to think of it, Ed didn't recall the cook having said a word since they left the station, which seemed strange to him. It didn't feel right to not hear his constant talk about food or beautiful women, and it was getting to a point where Ed was tired of listening to himself complain. He had been beginning to enjoy their comparisons between alchemy and working in the kitchen.

 _Nothing,_  came the curt reply, and Ed winced. Man, and he had thought  _he_  was in a bad mood.

The town finally come into view just as Ed was feeling like a well-done steak.

Sandswal was more a scattering of buildings than a town, which reminded him a lot of Resembool if you replaced the hills and grass with miles of dry dirt and took away the nice springy weather to be replaced with….hot. From what he could tell, the settlement seemed to be focused more on oil than farming, which didn't really surprise him.  _You'd probably be hard pressed to grow weeds in heat like this_ , he thought sourly.

The first building, which luckily happened to be the town inn, was run down and dusty, but at least it provided adequate shade from the roasting heat. Ed nearly collapsed onto the ground when they walked inside, but thirst drove him forward and he was able to slump onto a bar stool – his luggage case falling on the floor next to him.

"Ice water," he groaned, before letting his head fell onto the counter.

"Ani't got no ice," said the man behind the bar, who was likely the owner of the tavern. He didn't even glace at either of them, making Ed wonder what kind of people this guy saw every day in order for him and his brother to seem ordinary. A few of what Ed guessed were oil-workers sat at the bar and some scattered tables, but they just glimpsed up at the brothers' arrival before going back to looking bored.

Ed's hand flopped up in a half-hearted wave before falling back down. "Just give me the water." Al sat down beside him as Ed chugged the glass that was slid across the bar. The water tasted like dirt, but that was probably to be expected.

"Anything for you?" the bartender asked, looking up at Al. Even sitting down, the suit of armor towered over the man.

Al shook his head and held up his hands. "No, ah…that's alright. I'm good."

The man shrugged and looked back down to the glass he was polishing.

"Actually…" Al said, gaining his attention again. "We're looking for someone. A man named Jacob Bernstein?"

The bartender grimaced and some of the other men hanging around the lobby groaned. "Crazy-Jake," one of them muttered.

"Yeah, I know 'um," the bartender all but sighed. "He's the town doctor, if you could call 'im that."

"Old coot don't know a spleen from a toenail," one oil-worker said helpfully.

"Sewed my pinky finger on upside down," provided another.

"Well," Edward said, placing his hands flat on the table. "That sure sounds like our guy. Any idea where we can find him?"

The bartender pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. "House is a ways outside of town, but you probably won't find him there this time of day." He brought out a lighter and lit the cig before taking in a deep breath. "Nah, old man's too crazy to be indoors in this weather. Could check by the race track, though."

"You have a race track?" Al asked.

The man signed out a puff of smoke. ""Fraid so. Just walk down the main road a ways till you're out of town. Won't be too hard to miss if Jake's down there."

"Thanks!" Al said, getting up and starting out the door. He didn't walk very far, however, before stopping and turning around when he realized that Ed wasn't following him. "…Brother? Are you coming?"

"Huh?" Ed said, not really paying attention to his younger sibling. He was staring at the smoke trailing from the bartender's lit cigarette, wondering why something so simple and ordinary had him so mesmerized.

And jumpy.

Why was he suddenly feeling so jumpy?

The bartender seemed to notice his stare and pulled another cigarette from his apron. "You smoke, kid?" he asked, offering it to Ed.

"No," Edward said, but he strangely found himself taking the item anyway, too transfixed by the little roll of paper in his hands to realize that the bartender had called him a kid. It was like he had never seen one before.

The man just shrugged. "Take it anyway. You'll need it if you're gunna be dealing with Crazy-Jake."

"I don't smoke," Ed muttered as he picked up his luggage and began following Al mindlessly out the door. It felt as if he were trying to convince himself that he didn't, despite having never lit one his entire life.

And why the hell was he so damn  _jumpy_?

"I don't smoke," he muttered again, "but…."

Ed stopped so abruptly that dust flew up all around his boots. "Oh  _hell_ ," he groaned loudly, placing his left hand on his forehead and running it down his face.

Al turned around and ran back over to him, his armor clanking. "What is it, brother?" he asked. "Are you ok?"

 _That's why I feel like this,_  he growled.  _You could've at least_ said _something, moron._

 _Didn't think it was that important,_ Sanji told him, irritated,  _considering I'm technically dead._

"This guy smokes!" Ed said angrily, pointing toward his head.

"Oh," Al said, surprised. He seemed at a bit of a loss for what to say. "Does he…I mean, do you need to…?"

"NO!" he yelled, throwing the cigarette on the ground and stomping on it. "Like hell I'm going to start smoking just because mr. picky is having  _emotional withdrawals_!"

_Hey! There're not emotional! I just…haven't had one in a while, you know? And that was a perfectly good cig, too…_

_How often?_ Ed ground out, his teeth grinding together. _How often did you smoke?_

Sanji thought for a moment. _Um…all the time?_

Edward groaned again. Well, that was just great, wasn't it? Sanji couldn't have been an ordinary smoker, he had to be a  _chain-smoker_. Now Ed was going to have to deal with nicotine cravings on top of everything else going on.

"Come on, Al," Ed snapped, grabbing his brother's arm and dragging him down the road. "The faster we get this assignment over with, the faster I can get rid of this junkie."

_Hey! Who're you calling a junkie?_

Ed ignored him. This was going to be a very long day.

* * *

 

The race track that the bartender had told them about was not for racing horses or pigs like Edward was expecting. It was off to the left side of the road and about the length of a small barn, and just happened to be a track for…

"Chickens?" Ed said, staring in bewilderment.

Al was scratching his head. "I didn't know you could race chickens," he said thoughtfully.

"You can't," he muttered.

There were three young boys, probably aged six to seven, on the field, looking like they were trying to coax their chickens to walk in a straight line. Each animal had a string around its neck that attached to a number, however, instead of racing, the birds kept being distracted by bugs and other interesting objects in the dirt. It also didn't help that the chickens kept running away from the boys whenever they tried to steer them back onto the track.

The brothers stared at the scene for a while, wondering why anyone had thought this was a good idea. There were a set of worn-down chairs on the other side of the track, and standing by them was an old man. He was wearing a shirt with an ugly chicken sewn on the front and was yelling at the kids, obscenely waving his arms around.

"Stop chasing it down, George!" he yelled at one of the children. "Remember what I told, the hen knows best! You have to think like a bird if you ever wanna get one to race – let it communicate to you first and then you'll know where ta go!"

George didn't seem to be listening as he lunged for his bird, ending up in the dirt with his butt sticking up in the air.

"Is that Bernstein?" asked Al, looking at the old man as he jumped up and down and continued yelling at the little kids.

Ed grimaced. "Well, he does seem crazy enough. I guess we should go talk to him."

They walked over gingerly, wondering what kind a person this guy was to start a team of chicken-racing children.

"You here to watch the races?" the old man asked as they approached, grinning to show them a row of crooked-looking teeth. He had a white mustache that was shorter on one side than the other, which quivered below a crooked nose.

_Yep, this looks like our guy._

"Is your name Jacob Bernstein?" Al asked him politely.

"Well that depends on who's askin'," he said. "If you want to get rid of a pesky limb or a cursed birth mark, then you won't find anyone better on all the four seas!"

 _Ok…_ Edward thought, though Sanji seemed strangely interested in what he had just said.

Ed crossed his arms. "I think we'd like to keep the limbs we have, thanks," he said rather starkly. "What were to happen if we weren't here for a doctor's appointment? Any reason for you  _not_  to be Jacob Bernstein?"

Bernstein glanced first to his left and then to his right, as if making sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. Ed thought it was a little unnecessary, considering there was literally nothing around besides three boys chasing chickens and a tiny race track.

"The military's been trying to chaise me down," he whispered, leaning in close to them, eyes wide. "They've been following me for a while, but I think I've finally managed to give them the slip. You'd boys had better be careful; you never know who they might be disguised as these days."

Edward raised his eyebrows and looked over Al, who appeared just as surprised.

 _Is this old geezer really that stupid?_  he wondered.

 _Well, you don't exactly look like marines,_ Sanji said.  _Or military, I mean_.

" _Right_ ," said Al nervously. "Um, we….feel the same way, I guess."

Bernstein's eyes widened even more. "You do?"

"… _Yes_ ," Edward said slowly, catching on to what Alphonse was trying to do. "We're actually here to talk to you about…uh, taking over the government!"

"Yeah!" Al piped in. "In fact, you alone hold the key information we need in order to overthrow those who have been corrupted within the military. This is a very serious matter, and we can't do it without your help."

For a moment, Ed didn't think he would buy their story, but he seemed to be underestimating just how crazy this guy was.

"Well now," Bernstein said, straightening up and looking important. "I would be  _honored_ to tell you anything I can." Turning back toward the children, Bernstein called them over. They were all covered in dirt and looked none-too-pleased about their racing success as they lined up in front of him. "Alright racers, it's been a good practice, but right now I have very important business to addend to! Time for you all to return to your homes."

"Do we have to?" asked one boy with bright red hair. He was holding a feed bag and all the chickens were gathered by his feet.

"Not unless you want to put the most vital mission to the safety of our country in jeopardy! Now go back home and I won't tell your mothers that you need a tooth examination."

Eyes widening in terror, the three boys ran off toward the town – chickens clucking at their heels.

"Now then," the old man said. "Why don't we go on over to my place? I admit it's not the most preferred location to hold an important meeting such as this, however I've personally secured it so that no one, military or otherwise, can discover its location or listen in!"

"Great," Edward with large amounts of forced enthusiasm.

"Alrighty then, follow me!" Turning on his heel, Bernstein began marching away from the town as if he were the first baton in a long parade.

"Is this guy for real?" Ed whispered to Al as they began fallowing the trooping doctor.

Alphonse shrugged. "Well, Mustang did say he had a head injury during his time as a soldier."

"Yeah," Ed said thoughtfully. "But what I really want to know is why a man who used to work for the military is so paranoid about them finding him. I know he was discharged on the basis that he was researching human transmutation, but as far as I know they couldn't find any proof that he had done anything."

"Maybe he's just paranoid. Crazy people are paranoid sometimes, right?"

Edward hummed, hand on his chin and deep in thought.  _What do you think?_  He asked the so far silent cook after a few moments.

_Huh? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about something else._

_What about? Anything helpful?_

_Well…_ Sanji said slowly.  _I thought I heard –_

"We're here!" Bernstein interrupted. Edward had been too distracted to realize that the old man had stopped, and so came to a sudden halt in front of….what the hell was that supposed to be? It looked like a small house had been sunk three feet into the ground and then covered in splotchy globs of clay. Sticks and random pieces of metal stuck out of the top, making it look sort of like a porcupine bomb shelter – that is, without the actual protection.

"Ha!" Bernstein said. "Didn't even see it till I stopped in front of it, did ya?" He smiled proudly and crossed his arms. "Made the place myself. Perfect in case of a military invasion!"

The brothers stared at it for a few seconds as the old man walked around to the other side, before Al whispered, "Does he realize that metal is very easy to spot in the desert?"

Well, Al would know.

"Does he realize that the whole  _thing_  is very easy to spot in the desert?" Ed whispered back.

"Don't be strangers!" Bernstein yell, pulling up a trap door on the side of the ridiculous-looking building. "There is important work to be done!" He disappeared inside, only for his hand to pop up a second later and wave them over.

Ed and Al looked at each other before they both shrugged. The two of them – or rather, the three of them – had come too far to just turn away now, no matter how much Ed would rather not enter a crazy person's handmade, anti-military bomb shelter.

Approaching the hatch, Ed gingerly pulled it up and looked inside. The sandy floor was a lot further down then he had first expected, and rather dark. Al grabbed Ed’s luggage case and lifted up the door for him as he pushed his legs over the edge. However, before Ed could jump down, he felt a strong pull from down below and suddenly slipped off the ledge. He yelped, hitting the ground with a resounding  _clong_.

"Ed!" Alphonse called, calling down the hole. "Are you alright?"

Ed groaned. He way lying with his face flat on the floor, nose throbbing. As if nicotine cravings weren't enough.

 _Ouch,_  Sanji said helpfully.

Teeth clenched, Ed tried to push himself off the ground, but his right arm only lifted a few inches before slamming back down. Trying to lift his left leg produced the same results.

"The hell is this?" He called. He would have tried to investigate the floor, however investigating something can be rather hard when your face is smashed up against it.

"Oops!" Bernstein said, jogging over from deeper inside his hermit-hole. "Left the electromagnet on!"

Ed dragged his head to the side. "Well can you turn it  _off_?" he asked, maybe a little less nicely than he could have.

"Um…" Bernstein was standing beside a large switch on the wall, however he didn’t seem very eager to pull it. "You don't happen to have any metal on you? Possibly a gun or large collection of paperclips? Because I don't-"

"Part of me is  _made_  of metal," Ed growled between his teeth.

"Ah, well," Bernstein said, "I suppose that's alright. My apologies."

He pulled the lever and Ed instantly felt the pressure keeping him on the ground disappear. Dragging himself to his feet, Edward rolled his shoulder and bent his knee to make sure nothing was damaged, all the while shooting glares at the man who thought it was a good idea to imbed a flippin'  _magnet_  in his floor.

_Well, if you really did have a gun…._

_Shut up. I'm still mad at you._

"You alright?" Al called down again.

"Oh just  _fine_ ," he grumbled, dusting the sand off his coat and pants. "You can come down now, by the way." _Good thing he didn't go first. Al's got a lot more metal on him than I do._

There was another, much louder  _clong_  as Alphonse leapt from the hatch above and landed next to him, making all the sand on the metal plat jump several inches into the air. Once they both determined neither of the other was hurt, they fallowed the Bernstein into the larger part of his "house".

What the brothers had been expecting from the mad man was nothing like what they were presented with, and both Ed and Al couldn't help but stare in utter bewilderment. The walls were covered in hand-made notes showing radical, in-depth drawings of complex transmutation circles, breaking them apart into their base functions. Most of the circles were ones Ed had never seen before, however the whole feel of the place gave Ed a sense of Déjà vu.

It was just like their first discovery of Colbra Doran's warehouse.

Edward let his eyes trail across the wallpaper of notes, a sinking feeling coming over him. There was something about the circles that reminded Ed of something else – something he would rather  _not_  remember. It was an experience that had taken the truth – the cruel, horrible, undeniable truth – and twisted it into his mind so far he would never forget it.

He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

However, before Ed could fully sort out his thoughts, Sanji caught a glimpse of something on the wall and froze Edward's body in place.

 _What is it?_  Ed asked, concerned.

The other mind inside his was immobilized, transfixed by a single, sketched image half buried in the confusing tangle of papers.  _Is that…?_ He ran over to the wall, pushing away notes and drawings so that the whole paper was clear and uncovered.

 _What is it?_  Ed asked again. He would have frowned if Sanji didn't have such a tight grip on his nervous system.  _It just looks like a drawing to me!_

But Sanji swallowed. "It's a pirate ship symbol," he said slowly. "And not just any pirates."

Ed was confused.  _Pirate symbol?_

"It's the mark that flies on the Whitebeard Pirates' flag…from my world."


End file.
